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POEMS 



OF 



WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE 



i\ 



EDITED, WITH MEMOIR, 
BY 

WILLIAM HENRY VENABLE 



41 The Poet could not sing the Heroic Warrior, unless he him- 
self were at least a Heroic Warrior too. I fancy there is in him 
the Politician, the Thinker, Legislator, Philosopher;— in one or 
the other degree he could have been, he is all these." 

THOMAS CARLYLE 



CINCINNATI 

STEWART AND KIDD COMPANY 
1912 



tv 






Copyright, 1894, 
By The Robert Clarke Company 



Copyright, 1912, 
Stewart & Kidd Company 



THE QUINN & BODEN CO. PRESS 
RAHWAY, N. J. 



&CI.A305814 



®f)te Volume 

IS DEDICATED TO THE 
MEMORY OF A BELOVED SISTER 

MRS. ELIZABETH HAINES BROADWELL 

With the hope that in its accomplishment 
her cherished wish has been fulfilled 

J. R. F. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

William Haines Lytle ; Memoir, .... 1 

POEMS 

Antony and Cleopatra, 71 

popocatapetl, 74 

Brigand's Song, 77 

Sailing on the Sea, 80 

Anacreontic, 82 

Jacqueline, 85 

A Fragment, 87 

Macdonald's Drummer, 88 

The Volunteers, 93 

A Midsummer-Day's Dream, 96 

Lines to Miss , 98 

Lines Written in an Album, 100 

The Sweet May Moon 101 

In Camp 103 

'Tis Not the Time, 104 

When the Long Shadows, 106 

The Merry Days of Eld, ..... 108 
Lines to Miss E , 112 

(v) 



vi Contents 

PAGE 

The Haunted River, 113 

Faded Flowers, 115 

Two Years Ago, 117 

A Valentine, 119 

Love and Time, 120 

Lines, 122 

A Serenade, 125 

Song of the Lightning, 126 

Omens, .129 

Lines on My Thirty-Sixth Birthday, . . 131 

Lines to My Sisters, 133 

'Tis Only Once We Love, 135 

The Siege of Chapultepec, 137 

The Soldier's Death, 140 

The Farmer, . .143 

Hunting Song, 146 

Song of the Ragged Attorney, .... 148 

The Farewell, 151 

General Lytle's Last Speech, .... 153 

Company K. A Poem, 166 

Last Marching Order, 169 

Last Marching Order to Brigade, in Fac- 
simile 171-2 



PREFACE 

The first "edition of this, the only complete 
collection of the poems of William Haines 
Lytle, was issued in the year 1894, at the re- 
quest of the poet's sister, Mrs. Josephine R. 
Foster, who supplied the editor with much bio- 
graphical material, including personal letters 
and other authentic manuscripts. The plates 
from which the book was printed were de- 
stroyed by the Pike's Opera House fire of 1903, 
and in order to meet a growing demand for 
copies of the volume the present edition is 

published. 

W. H. V. 

July 10, 1911. 



vii 



WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE 

In the Appendix to his Geography and His- 
tory of the Western States, published in Cin- 
cinnati in 1828, Timothy Flint gives a personal 
narrative from the pen of General Lytle, whom 
he describes as " a distinguished and respect- 
able citizen of the State of Ohio, who has been 
in that country from the beginning, and who 
probably has seen as much of its progress as 
any other man in it." 

The narrative, fresh and suggestive in style, 
replete with interest, relates how its writer, a 
lad nine years old, came with his father, in 
1779, from Pennsylvania to the West, descend- 
ing the Ohio, in the spring of 1780, in one of 
sixty-three large arks^ or Kentucky boats, 
some of which were occupied by families, oth- 
ers by young men intending to explore the 



2 William Haines Lytle 

country. " The number of fighting men on 
board," says Lytle, " was nearly a thousand." 
" My father," he continues, " had been a prac- 
ticed soldier in the former wars of the coun- 
try, and had been stationed, as such, three 
years at Pittsburgh. He was, of course, versed 
in the modes, requisites and stratagems of In- 
dian warfare." 

On the 12th of April the fleet halted at the 
mouth of the Licking, and discovered an In- 
dian encampment on the Ohio shore opposite. 
A considerable force crossed the river and the 
Indians fled. The boy Lytle was among the 
soldiers on this occasion. Fifty-one years later 
General Lytle died in his own house which was 
built near this scene of his youthful venture 
against the Indians. 

The two Lytles, father and son, both named 
William, are distinguished from each other in 
our early histories by their military titles, the 
elder holding the rank of colonel, the younger 
that of general. The family stock is of Irish 



William Haines Lytle 3 

origin. Colonel William Lytle was commis- 
sioned captain by Governor Morris, of Penn- 
sylvania, in the year 1750, and he served in 
the old French and Indian War. 

General William Lytle, like his father, be- 
came a famous Indian fighter and pioneer. At 
the age of fifteen he was put in command of a 
war party under the direction of the adventu- 
rous Daniel Boone. In the war of 1812, he 
was major-general of Ohio militia, and in 1828, 
President Andrew Jackson appointed him sur- 
veyor-general of the public lands of Ohio, In- 
diana, and Michigan. He was founder of 
Lytletown, now Williamsburg, Clermont county, 
Ohio, from which village he removed to Cincin- 
nati, where he died in 1831. 

General Robert Todd Lytle, third son of 
General William Lytle, was born in Williams- 
burg, in 1804. Coming to Cincinnati with his 
father's family in 1810 5 he was educated in the 
old Cincinnati College, after which he studied 
and practiced law. After serving a term in 



4 William Haines Lytle 

the Ohio Legislature, he was elected, in 1834, 
to a seat in the National Congress. The next 
public office he filled was that of surveyor-gen- 
eral, to which he was appointed, as his father 
had been, by Jackson. Once more he was 
chosen Representative in the Ohio Legislature; 
and, later, was commissioned major-general of 
the Ohio militia, a rank held by his father be- 
fore him, and afterwards by his illustrious son. 

Robert T. Lytle was a person of fine pres- 
ence, a courteous gentleman, an accomplished 
scholar. His ability in conversation, and as 
an orator at the bar and on the stump, was 
so marked as to win him universal admiration. 
In the democratic familiarity of political fel- 
lowship, his constituents delighted to call him 
" Orator Bob," just as Corwin's followers 
showed affectionate loyalty by huzzaing for 
" Old Tom." 

On November 30, 1825, Robert Lytle mar- 
ried Miss Elizabeth Haines, of New Jersey, a 
lady of rare culture and beauty. Their chil- 



William Haines Lytle 5 

dren were one son, William Haines Lytle, the 
subject of this memoir, and two daughters, 
Josephine R. and Elizabeth Haines Lytle. 
Robert T. Lytle died in New Orleans, in 1839, 
aged only thirty-five, and his wife survived him 
but two years. 

On the east side of Lawrence street, midway 
between Third and Fourth, Cincinnati, stands 
a spacious old mansion 1 surrounded by a broad 
lawn and shaded by trees. This is the Lytle 
residence, built by General William Lytle in 
1810, and now occupied by his grand-daughter, 
Mrs. Josephine R. Foster. 2 It was the first 
brick residence of its grade erected in the city. 
When Andrew Jackson made his only visit to 
Cincinnati, he was General Lytle's guest, and 
held a levee 3 or " Old Hickory " reception, in 
the south parlor of this mansion. 

1 This historic mansion, which was still standing at the 
time of the dedication of M Lytle Park," was torn down by 
authority of the City Council, in the year 1908. 

2 Mrs. Foster died at the Lytle homestead, December 
21, 1898. 



6 William Haines Lytle 

Under its hospitable roof, the Lytle house 
has welcomed many noted visitors — statesmen, 
military officers, journalists, and foreign trav- 
elers. Always have its doors been open to such 
as sought or had won distinction in any depart- 
ment of art, science, or literature. Among 
these were Powers, the sculptor; Mitchel, the 
astronomer ; Read and Fosdick, the poets. The 
book-shelves, cabinets, and walls are rich in 
family mementoes of four or five generations — 
autographs, official commissions, portraits, sil- 
houettes, souvenirs of military interest and of 
patriotic devotion. 

In this house, the home of his father and of 
his grandfather, was born William Haines 
Lytle, on November 2, 1826. Here, under the 
wise guidance of his father and the gentle care 
of his mother, he received the strong mental 
and moral impulses which started his thoughts 
and feelings in the right direction. Here, 
when his parents died leaving him an orphan at 
the age of fifteen, he was still the companion of 



William Haines Lytle 7 

his two sisters, for whom he always cherished 
the warmest brotherly affection and most chiv- 
alrous regard. The mutual love and fidelity 
constantly manifested by three so near and 
dear to one another^ illustrate how sacred and 
beautiful is the friendship of kindred, the re- 
ciprocal devotion of brother and sisters. Among 
W. H. Lytle's latest verses are the lines : 

" In vain for me the applause of men. 
The laurel won by sword or pen, 
But for the hope, so dear and sweet, 
To lay my trophies at your feet." 

These lines were written for the poet's sis- 
ters; and when he lay dead on the field of 
Chickamauga, friends found in his pocket-book 
the last letter they wrote to him, a letter filled 
with anxious solicitude and affectionate assur- 
ances. 

William H. Lytle inherited the martial spirit 
of his ancestors, and the gift of eloquence. He 
early manifested a natural tendency to express 
himself in oratorical prose and romantic verse. 



8 William Haines Lytle 

The poetical predilection he derived from his 
mother, who was an accomplished writer in 
meter and in prose. The favorite themes on 
which he exercised his boyish invention were 
patriotic. Stimulated to the pursuit of knowl- 
edge by all that he saw and heard at home, 
he read and studied and wrote, with that eager 
pleasure which, in an ambitious youth, gives 
promise of rapid progress. With steady fer- 
vor, he pored over books, not as a task, but 
as a privilege. 

The formal schooling he received was from 
the professors of the old Cincinnati College, of 
which his grandfather was a founder, and in 
which his father was educated. Young Lytle 
gave his energy to the study of language — 
English, Latin, Greek, German, and French. 
His diligence was such that, before completing 
his sixteenth year, he finished the prescribed 
course and graduated with first honors, the 
youngest student in his class. The " oration " 
which he delivered on the occasion, February 



William Haines Lytle 9 

3, 1843, was on " Law and the Legal Profes- 
sion." A local newspaper mentions the speech 
as " the gem of the evening/ 5 and remarks that 
" Master Lytle is unquestionably an uncom- 
monly good speaker; the mantle of his parent 
seems to have fallen upon him, graced by ad- 
ditional gifts from the God of Eloquence, which 
add to it fresh luster and brilliance " — a strain 
of rhetorical praise which probably pleased the 
young orator. Doubtless the several students 
who spoke graduation speeches that evening 
in College Hall were conscious of some special 
demand on them to meet the highest expecta- 
tion of General Lewis Cass, who chanced to be 
in town and was present at the exercises. 

The speech on law and lawyers was by no 
means the maiden effort of its author. A 
packet of closely-written, neatly-folded manu- 
scripts, prepared for delivery before the Phi 
Delta Sigma society of the college, and pre- 
served by the poet's sisters, contains a number 
of academic exercises of merit far beyond that 



10 William Haines Lytle 

usually discovered in lads of fourteen or fif- 
teen. One of these compositions is on " Love 
of Country," and another treats of " Intellec- 
tual Freedom," or rather, of the evil of men- 
tal servitude. In this last, the hereditary ardor 
and local pride of the young speaker are 
brought out in a vigorous appeal to his fellow- 
students to be worthy of their ancestors and 
the place of their nativity. " And then," he 
cries, " mightiest of motives — there is your 
lineage! descendants of the Western pioneers! 
natives of Western soil! Can you be degener- 
ate ? " In conclusion he quotes from William 
D. Gallagher the lines beginning, — 

"Land of the West — green forest land! 
Thine early day for deeds is famed, 
Which in heroic page shall stand 
Till bravery is no longer named." 

While pursuing his studies at the old college, 
and finding such inspiration as could come to 
a boy in a new city, which he called the 
" Athens of the Backwoods," Lytle " caught 



William Haines Lytle 11 

the trick " of verse, and often amused himself 
composing simple ballads and songs. The 
earliest of his metrical pieces that escaped de- 
struction was composed when he was only four- 
teen years old, and is called " The Soldier's 
Death." 

Having finished the college course, Lytle 
studied law under the guidance of his mother's 
brother, E. S. Haines, in whose office he was 
made ready for admission to the Cincinnati bar. 
During the five years of preparation, in his 
uncle's office, he found time to extend his gen- 
eral knowledge of science and literature, and 
especially of French and German. 

The Mexican war, which broke out in 1846, 
had a romantic, adventurous, and spectacular 
character, irresistibly attractive to young men 
of cavalier instincts. The reports and rumors 
that came from Taylor's army, of marches and 
battles and bombardments, in the gulf-girt 
mountain land of the ancient Montezumas, 
sounded like some tale of mediaeval war, in 



12 William Haines Lytle 

which personal deeds of daring and pursuits of 
love made knight-errantry the glory of man- 
hood. Hundreds of volunteers enlisted from 
all parts of the Ohio valley, leaving book on 
shelf and plow in furrow, to follow the flag 
in Mexico. No wonder that the martial blood 
of the young and brave was stirred by the re- 
cital of daring exploits and perilous escapes, 
shared by heroes who charged on the field of 
Palo Alto or helped to storm Monterey. The 
very names, Mexico, Cerro Gordo, Cherubusco, 
had a sonorous sound echoing of old Spain. 
Captain George W. Cutter led the Kenton 
Guards from Covington to the seat of war, and, 
after the battle of Buena Vista, told in verse 
how 

"Amidst the sanguine dews 
Lay the guards of Montezuma 
And the knights of Vera Cruz." 

And another Kentucky poet, O'Hara, volun- 
teering at the outbreak of the war, marched 
away beyond the Rio Grande, followed by those 



William Haines Lytle 13 

gallant soldiers whose valor and death he com- 
memorated afterward in the immortal quatrain : 

" On fame's . eternal camping ground 
Their silent tents are spread, 
And glory guards, with solemn round, 
The bivouac of the dead." 

Strange would it have been, had not William 
H. Lytle heard the bugle blow and the drum 
roll, even in his dreams, calling him to don the 
sword of his fathers, if for no other reason, 
from the impulse of military ardor and the love 
of glory. Enlisting in the summer of 1847, 
though yet in his minority, he was chosen first 
lieutenant in Company L in the Second Regi- 
ment of Infantry, Ohio Volunteers, Colonel Ir- 
win of Lancaster commanding. The regiment 
was received into the service on the fifth of 
October, 1847, and was disbanded on the 
twenty-fifth of July, 1848. On the twenty- 
first of December, 1847, Lytle was made cap- 
tain of his company. 

Lytle's campaigning in Mexico came too late 



14 William Haines Lytle 

in the war to afford much occasion for active 
service, but it furnished valuable experience in 
military training, and gave opportunity to see 
a wonderful, tropical region, and to enjoy the 
poetical and romantic emotions evoked by ad- 
ventures new and strange. The ten months' 
sojourn in Mexico was rich in literary mate- 
rial, part of which Lytle worked up in letters 
mainly descriptive of scenery. Some of his 
best poems were the fruit of his Mexican expe- 
rience, for example, " The Volunteers " and 
" Popocatapetl." 

Every youth whom " Fate reserves for a 
bright manhood," comes soon upon the day 
which bids him lay hold of his life-work in ear- 
nest, quit the dream and begin the deed. Lytle 
had in him a steady fire of energy which kept 
him always active. There was nothing eccen- 
tric about him, nothing irresolute. Though of 
the so-called " poetic temperament," he did not 
affect peculiar sensibilities, indulge unruly pas- 
sions, or exact tribute of sentimental sympathy 



William Haines Lytle 15 

from his friends. He was strong and self-re- 
liant, asking no one to live for him or to die 
for him. 

Returning to Cincinnati, when the Mexican 
war was ended, Lytle entered into a law part- 
nership with the firm of Haines, Todd & Lytle ; 
and at once found business as an advocate in 
the courts of the city. His general popularity 
among both Democrats and Whigs, and his 
known ability as a public speaker, led his 
friends of the Democratic party to nominate him 
as candidate for the state legislature, to which 
office he was elected in 1852. He served two 
terms in the House of Representatives, and 
was for a time speaker of that body. All the 
accounts which we have seen of his political 
career agree in testifying that, though he spoke 
seldom, his speaking was always to the point, 
clear, forcible, and effective. 

One of his addresses, delivered in 1853, at- 
tracted much attention. The speech was in 
advocacy of a bill introduced by Durbin Ward, 



16 William Haines Lytle 

of Warren county, to appropriate ten thou- 
sand dollars for a statue of Washington, by 
Hiram Powers, to be placed in the State House. 
The discourse was eloquent and persuasive, and 
it has a special interest because it discusses 
matters of taste and art, and pays deserved 
tribute to the genius of an American sculptor. 
In 1857, Mr. Lytle was the candidate of the 
Democrats for lieutenant-governor, and can- 
vassed the state, but was not elected. Gov- 
ernor Chase, in the same year, bestowed upon 
him the commission of major-general, com- 
manding the first division of the Ohio militia. 
At that time no one foresaw the imminence of 
the war-cloud which was to burst in 1861. 
Though no acts of special military or political 
significance are ascribed to W. H. Lytle from 
the time of his appointment to the command of 
the militia to the breaking out of the Civil 
War, yet, perhaps, the verdict of posterity will 
be that within that period he achieved a tri- 
umph which will perpetuate his memory after 



William Haines Lytle 17 

his war laurels have faded. In July, 1858, he 
wrote his best poem. 

The story of -General Lytle's splendid career 
from the day when Fort Sumter yielded — to the 
day of his death on the field of Chickamauga — 
a period of less than two years and eight 
months — covers the events of three principal 
campaigns, each signalized by a terrible battle. 
The time was indeed short, but it seems long 
because the flying days of it were laden with 
deeds of historic moment. The time was short, 
but long enough to develop many heroes; but 
not one more illustrious than William Haines 
Lytle, the poet-warrior. 

President Lincoln's first call for troops was 
issued on Sunday, April 15, 1861. Next day, 
the governor of Ohio, William Dennison, tele- 
graphed to General Lytle, ordering him to es- 
tablish a camp at Cincinnati. Summoning his 
staff to meet at the Burnet House he kept them 
at work all night recruiting a regiment. A 
local military company, the Guthrie Grays, 



18 William Haines Lytle 

was made the nucleus of the organization. So 
many volunteers desired to enlist that the doors 
of the rendezvous had to be locked after the 
last company of the regiment was filled with 
picked men. Hundreds of applicants were dis- 
appointed. On Tuesday the troops marched to 
Camp Harrison, on the grounds of the old 
trotting park, near Spring Grove. This was 
the first properly organized camp of instruc- 
tion in the West. 

The suddenly formed camp at once attracted 
universal attention to its scenes of busy prepa- 
ration and high-wrought excitement. The 
chief interest and admiration centered in the 
commander. Scarcely had the troops assem- 
bled before throngs of citizens flocked to camp 
to proffer words of cheer and gifts of price. 
Mass was celebrated in the Irish companies of 
the Tenth Regiment, and Archbishop Purcell 
made a stirring speech to the soldiers. On the 
same day, May 15th, a sword was presented 
to Colonel Lytle by T. J. Gallagher, from 



William Haines Lytle 19 

members of the Cincinnati bar. Other friends 
made the colonel an equally appropriate pres- 
ent, a handsome black horse of noble breed, 
bearing the Irish name, Faiigh-a-Ballaugh, or 
" Clear the Way." 

On the 4th of June, 1861, the governor of 
Ohio issued a commission appointing Lytle 
colonel of the Tenth Infantry, Ohio Volunteers, 
known as the Montgomery Regiment, in honor 
of the Montgomery Guards. The regiment 
presently marched from Camp Harrison to 
Camp Dennison, on the Little Miami Railroad, 
sixteen miles from Cincinnati. Before the de- 
parture of the troops to Virginia, whither they 
were ordered, a stand of regimental colors was 
presented to the Tenth Regiment, an offering 
from patriotic women of Cincinnati. The flags 
were presented by Hon. Bellamy Storer, with 
an appropriate address. Colonel Lytle replied 
in these words: 

"Sir: On behalf of the Tenth Regiment, I 
tender to the ladies of Cincinnati, through 



20 William Haines Lytle 

you, our heartfelt thanks for these beautiful 
flags. 

" When these wars are over^ we will bring 
them back again to the Queen City of the West, 
without spot or blemish. 

" You see around you a thousand men who 
to-day say good-by to their sweethearts and 
their friends. God bless the city, the state, the 
Union, and the ladies. We make no promises, 
but when it comes to the clash of steel, remem- 
ber the Tenth. 

" Sir, tell the ladies that there is not a man 
in these ranks who will not shed his heart's 
blood like water beneath these colors. 

" We bid you good-by, and God bless you 
all. < Faugh-a-Ballaugh.' " 

The Montgomery regiment moved without 
delay to the assigned field of duty, in Western 
Virginia, taking its place in the general army. 
Numerous important services were required of 
the regiment, though it engaged in no great 
battle until September. Repeated testimonies 



William Haines Lytle 21 

came from the war correspondents to the ef- 
fect that " Colonel Lytle and his officers de- 
served the highest credit for their success in 
the long, heavy march over the mountains;" 
that " the colonel was wearing well and was fit 
for his onerous tasks ;" and that his men were 
having a full share of " bush-whacking " and 
guerrilla warfare. On one occasion of terrible 
excitement, almost panic, Lytle rode in among 
the men, " addressed them in happy but em- 
phatic terms, and left them cheering lustily all 
he said." 

The battle of Carnifex Ferry, fought on Sep- 
tember 10, 1861, was the first in which the 
Tenth Ohio was engaged, and the first scene 
of great slaughter witnessed by Colonel 
Lytle. The crimson baptism which the Mont- 
gomery regiment that day received rechristened 
it The Bloody Tenth. The new banner which 
mothers, sisters, wives, and sweethearts had 
given to the boys in blue, on the peaceful banks 
of the Miami, went down in the conflict, but 



22 William Haines Lytle 

was not lost. Under its very folds, the young 
Colonel who had received it, and given pledge 
to protect it, fell wounded. His sergeant, 
Michael Fitzgibbons, shot all but to pieces, 
gasping in death, said : " Never mind me ! 
Where is the flag? Where is it? For God's 
sake save the flag ! ' : Another color-bearer, 
Daniel O'Conner, was shot down. Then Cap- 
tain Stephen McGroarty held up the colors, 
was struck by a rifle ball and fell wounded. All 
this gallant work — no playing soldier now — 
took place immediately after Colonel Lytle fell, 
from the effect of a wound in the leg. A witness 
of the action says : " Lytle realized every idea 
of chivalry I had formed from romance or 
history." The gallant colonel was mounted on 
the black charger, Faugh-a-Ballaugh, when hit 
by the ball which also wounded the steed. The 
rider came to the ground, and, snatching a 
musket, began to fire at the foe, but the horse, 
plunging, fell dead within the enemy's works. 
A generous enthusiasm of valor glowed in the 



William Haines Lytle 23 

hearts of Lytle's men, and spread to other 
regiments. It is related that Colonel Lowe, 
of the Twelfth Ohio, was heard to say, the mo- 
ment before a bullet killed him : " I want to be 
where Lytle is. There is where the fighting 
will be." Captain McGroarty, the color- 
bearer, said : " Why, there are no men but 
would battle to the death if led by Colonel 
Lytle." 

Colonel Lytle, with other wounded officers, 
was brought to Cincinnati, where, at the resi- 
dence of his brother-in-law, Samuel J. Broad- 
well, he was cared for affectionately by his two 
sisters. All Cincinnati was ablaze with enthusi- 
asm. The beautiful regimental flag, bearing 
the inscription, " God and Our Union," which 
the ladies had presented to the " Bloody 
Tenth," in June, was placed in a show-window 
of Shillito's store on Fourth street. A news- 
paper item said : " The staff is broken into sev- 
eral pieces, and in front of the banner lies the 
oil-cloth cover, stained with blood." People 



24 William Haines Lytle 

came in curiosity to look, but, looking, could 
not see, for tears. The dread reality of war 
was but too sadly emblazoned in that blood- 
stained silken symbol. The common emotion 
found expression in several pieces of verse, 
among which was one by Mrs. S. H. Oliver, en- 
titled, " Banner of the Tenth Ohio." The last 
two stanzas of her poem are here quoted: 



"On the banks of Gauley river. 
Many a son of Erin died; 
Many a brave and loyal German 
Fought Columbia's sons beside. 



Honor to the Tenth Ohio, 

Who the brunt of battle braved; 
Henceforth let it be remembered, 

Erin's sons the banner saved." 



Having recovered from his wound, Colonel 
Lytle was placed in command of Camp Morton, 
at Bardstown, Kentucky, a camp of rendezvous 
and instruction, with an average presence of ten 
thousand troops. He remained at this post 



William Haines Lytle 25 

from late in January till the beginning of 
April, 1862, and was then assigned to the com- 
mand of the Seventeenth Brigade of the Third 
Division of the Army of the Cumberland, Gen- 
eral O. M. Mitchel commanding. A corre- 
spondent of the Cincinnati Enquirer, writing 
under date of March 27, 1862, gives a lively 
description of what happened when Lytle 
presented himself for special orders at Camp 
Van Buren, Murf reesboro : " While I write," 
he says, " I hear a tremendous cheering, and 
go out to learn what it means. I see the guard 
turned out at present arms to some dignitary, 
and hasten to see who it is. Imagine my sur- 
prise, when I see Major Moore, of the Tenth 
Ohio, ride up to a squadron of cavalry and 
shake hands with a very modest-looking trooper, 
who, on closer inspection, turned out to be 
Colonel William H. Lytle. He was now on his 
way to General Mitchel's quarters, where the 
Tenth met him on their return from town. As 
soon as the boys recognized him, a cheer went 



26 William Haines Lytle 

up that called out the whole camp; hats, caps, 
and guns went up in wild confusion, and the 
scene presented by the enthusiastic Tenth beg- 
gars description." 

On the 23d of August, 1862, orders were is- 
sued instructing Colonel Lytle to " take com- 
mand of all the forces at Huntsville and hasten 
the shipments of supplies " from that point to 
Louisville. The general commanding expressed 
in advance his confidence in Colonel Lytle's 
judgment and efficiency as an officer, " to per- 
form the important and probably hazardous 
duties " assigned to him. Nor was this con- 
fidence misplaced. The march was successfully 
accomplished within seventeen days, without the 
loss of a soldier, an animal or a wagon. On 
the last day the command marched thirty-two 
miles, reaching Louisville on September 26th. 
Besides the troops, which included the Tenth 
Ohio, Fifteenth Kentucky, two companies Ala- 
bama loyal troops, one company Michigan 
engineers and mechanics, Loomis's, Ames's, Bal- 



William Haines Lytle 27 

lard's, and Kennett's cavalry, the Third Ohio, 
and Forty-second Iowa, and Stone's Battery, 
the command was burdened with a train of over 
a hundred wagons, a drove of between five hun- 
dred and six hundred horses, and also by a 
large number of refugees. The dust and heat 
were intolerable, and water was scarce; but, 
notwithstanding drawbacks, the march was a 
" complete success." 

The general movements of the armies of Buell 
and Bragg in the series of military operations 
culminating in the battle of Perryville can be 
read in any history of the Civil War. The 
special part of the general action, with which 
our sketch is concerned, was very clearly 
described in an admirable paper on Colonel 
Lytle read before the Loyal Legion by 
Dr. A. C. Kemper, in 1883, from which we 
quote : 

" Colonel Harris notified Colonel Lytle that 
his left flank was exposed. Colonel Lytle saw 
that his right flank was also attacked by over- 



28 William Haines Lytle 

whelming numbers. Upon the one side, Gen- 
eral Bragg appeared in person on the field, 
and General Polk, encouraging his troops, and 
on the other, General Rosecrans, a host in him- 
self. Colonel Lytle begged for reinforcements. 
He was ordered by General McCook to hold his 
ground. Next day it was asked by some one 
if, under such circumstances, he obeyed the 
order. The reply was ' Go ask Rousseau ! Go 
ask the Fifteenth Kentucky ! And, if you dare, 
go ask the Tenth Ohio if Lytle obeyed the 
order ! ' 

" The most practicable thing to do was done. 
Colonel Lytle dismounted, and led in person a 
charge by the flank. A fragment of a shell 
struck him on the left side of the head, behind 
the ear, prostrating him and covering him with 
blood. Sergeant Donohue lifted him in his 
arms, only to be told ' Leave me ; I'm done for. 
Stand by your colors ! ' He was left upon the 
field with his dead orderly, Robb; one of his 
aides, Lieutenant St. John; and two hundred 



William Haines Lytle 29 

and sixty-five out of five hundred and twenty- 
eight of the Tenth Ohio." 

His wound, though frightful in appearance, 
did not prove dangerous. He was taken pris- 
oner, but soon released on parole, and sent 
home. The battle of Perryville was fought 
October 7, 1862 ; Colonel Lytle returned to the 
home of his brother-in-law, Dr. Nathaniel Fos- 
ter, Cincinnati, on October 13th. 

Lytle was ill-content to stay at home longer 
than necessity required. Immediately he so- 
licited the Secretary of War to hasten orders 
for his exchange. Secretary Stanton responded 
in a telegram, dated October 14, saying: " The 
adjutant-general is instructed to negotiate 
your exchange as speedily as possible. Allow 
me to express my high estimation of your gal- 
lantry and hope for your speedy recovery and 
restoration to your command with appro- 
priate rank." On the next day, the follow- 
ing letter was dispatched from the state 
capital : 



30 William Haines Lytle 

" Headquarters Paroled Prisoners, 
" Columbus, O., October 25, 1862. 

" Colonel — Yours of yesterday reporting 
yourself as a paroled prisoner is at hand. 

" I will answer it myself, Colonel, that the 
opportunity to tell you how sincerely sorry I 
am that you are hurt and a prisoner, may not 
slip me. I wish, also, to congratulate you that 
you have won fame so far. Courage and a 
clear head are God's good gifts, and for 
our country's sake I am glad you have 
so nobly manifested them as your proper- 
ties. 

" No doubt you are in excellent quarters, sur- 
rounded by friends; if so, remain there until 
you are recovered, exchanged, and receive or- 
ders. You are needed in the field, where I wish 
to heaven I could accompany you. Wishing 
you well, Colonel, I am most truly your 
friend, 

" Lewis Wallace, Maj.-Geril. 
" To Colonel W. H. Lytle." 



William Haines Lytle 31 

The complimentary dispatch from the Secre- 
tary of War, and General Wallace's cordial 
letter of soldierly congratulation, though 
grateful to Colonel Lytle's feelings, only in- 
creased his anxiety to return to the field and 
resume his command. After waiting impa- 
tiently two months for news of his restoration 
to the service, he wrote to the commissary of 
prisoners, inclosing a copy of Secretary Stan- 
ton's telegram. His letter ran as follows: 

" Cincinnati, January 5, 1863. 
"Colonel William Hoffman, U. S. A., 

" Commissary General of Prisoners, Wash- 
ington, D. C: 
" Colonel— At the battle of Perryville, Ken- 
tucky, while engaged in rallying one of my regi- 
ments, momentarily thrown into some disorder 
by an attack of the enemy in great force, I 
was disabled by a wound and taken prisoner. 
On the day following, I was paroled at Har- 
rodsburg. On the night of my arrival in this 



32 William Haines Lytic 

city, I received a telegram from Washington, 
of which the inclosed is a copy. Notwithstanding 
this order to the adjutant-general, I have not 
yet, after the lapse of more than two months, 
received any notification of my exchange, and 
recently, at Murfreesboro, to my intense regret, 
my old command has been in action without me. 
May I not ask, Colonel, your earliest attention 
to my case, and that, if practicable, my ex- 
change may be effected without greater 
delay? 

" I will add, that my address is to Cincinnati, 
under orders from Major-General Wallace, 
commanding camp of paroled prisoners at 
Columbus, dated October 25, 1862, to remain 
here until I was recovered, exchanged, and re- 
ceive orders. 

" I have the honor to be, Colonel, your obe- 
dient servant, 

" Wm. H. Lytle, 
" Colonel Tenth Ohio, lately commanding 
Seventeenth Brigade, Rousseau's Division." 



William Haines Lytle 33 

On November 29, 1862, Colonel Lytle was 
promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, and 
early in the following February he was assigned 
to the command of the First Brigade, in the 
Third Division, Twentieth Army Corps of the 
Army of the Cumberland. The corps was com- 
manded by Rosecrans, the division by Sheridan. 
Lytle's brigade had been commanded by General 
Sill, a distinguished Ohioan, who fell in the bat- 
tle of Murfreesboro. A sergeant-major in the 
brigade, referring to Lytle's succession to Sill's 
command, says: 

" It speedily became apparent that the same 
lofty courtesies and qualities of mind and heart 
which had so endeared to us the one, shone out 
with an equal luster in the character of the 
other. The same calm breadth of justice, the 
same high scorn of meanness and baseness, the 
same rare culture, the same philosophic quiet 
and studious earnestness to excel, the same 
genial warmth of manner, the same affectionate 
tenderness for the comfort of his subordinates, 



34 William Haines Lytle 

whether officers or men, the same scrupulous 
care not to offend, the same magnanimity to- 
ward foes, and the same magnificent surrender 
of self toward friends, distinct in individuals, 
yet alike in their grand resemblances to the 
patterns and models of the race — it is enough 
for me to say that the beautiful tribute which 
General Lytle, in his late speech at Bridgeport, 
paid to the virtues and valor and wisdom of Sill, 
is itself the best and truest eulogy that can be 
pronounced over Lytle." 

The speech alluded to was a notable one 
which was delivered in accepting a jeweled 
Maltese cross presented at Bridgeport, Ala- 
bama, by officers of the Tenth Ohio. The mag- 
nificent ornament of gold set with emeralds and 
diamonds, with inscriptions and the Irish em- 
blem the shamrock engraved upon it, was 
presented near a spring close by the general's 
quarters on a Sunday evening, August 9, 1863, 
just seven weeks before the day of his death at 
Chickamauga. Lieutenant-Colonel Ward, of 



William Haines Lytle 35 

the Tenth vOhio, made the presentation speech, 
and pinned the cross to the general's coat. In 
the course of his eloquent address in reply, 
General Lytle said: 

" I will not deny, gentlemen, that, when on re- 
porting to this department, I found you were to 
be no longer in my command, I felt that sense of 
loneliness and isolation natural to one whose old 
army associations were broken up. My present 
command will pardon me for saying this, I 
know, for, in my judgment, no man who forgets 
his old friends deserves to make new ones. But 
long since I have felt perfectly art home, and I 
cannot let this occasion pass without express- 
ing to the officers and men of the First Brigade 
my heartfelt thanks for the warm and generous 
welcome they have awarded to a stranger. 
Gentlemen of the Tenth Ohio, you see around 
you your brethren in arms, the men of Sheri- 
dan's division; men from the North-west, from 
the clans of the people who pitch their tents 
on the prairies of Illinois and Michigan and 



36 William Haines Lytle 

Wisconsin, and by the shores of the great lakes 
— veterans of Pea Ridge, Perryville, and Stone 
River. When the next fight comes on, may they 
and the old Tenth stand shoulder to shoulder, 
and see by whom, in glorious emulation, our 
battle-flags into the ranks of the enemy can 
be flung the farthest and followed the closest." 

In this noble strain the orator went on, mak- 
ing the most memorable speech of his life, a 
speech which, in its simple fervid force and 
sincerity, is not unworthy to be placed side by 
side with Lincoln's, at Gettysburg. The clos- 
ing paragraph of the warrior poet's address is 
in the following words: 

" That the day of ultimate triumph for the 
Union arms, sooner or later, will come, I do not 
doubt, for I have faith in the courage, the wis- 
dom, and the justice of the people. It may not 
be for all of us here to-day to listen to the 
chants that greet the victor, nor to hear the 
bells ring out the new nuptials of the States. 
But those who do survive can tell, at least, to 



William Haines Lytle 37 

the people,* how their old comrades, whether 
in the skirmish or the charge, before the rifle- 
pit or the redan, died with their harness on, in 
the great war for the Union and Liberty." 

The effect of this eloquent address — the last 
public utterance, as it proved, of a brave pa- 
triot — was profound and thrilling. 

The poet, Richard Realf, who was present — 
then sergeant-major in the Eighty-eighth Illi- 
nois Volunteers — was inspired by the speech to 
compose, on the field, the following sonnet, 
which we copy from the original draft. 

SONNET. 

[Speech of Brigadier General Wm. H. Lytle, Bridgeport, Ala.] 

"Vates!" I shouted, while your solemn words, 
Rhythmic with crowned passion lilted past, 
" That land which, clung with agony, affords 
Great souls all coined in one grand battle-blast 
Like this soul and this singing, shall not fail 
So much as by a hair-breadth, of the large 
Results of affluent wisdom, whereunto 
Across the bloody gaps our swords must hew, 
And far beyond the mountain and the marge, 
We press with bruised limbs that yet shall scale 



38 William Haines Lytle 

The topmost heights of being:" therefore thou 
Lead on, that we may follow, for I think 
The future hath not where from we should shrink; 
Held by the steadfast shining of your brow. 



The terrific battle of Chickamauga, so 
fraught with disaster, so memorable for deeds 
of heroic daring, raged for two days, September 
19 and 20, 1863. It was in the forenoon of the 
second day, Sunday, that General Lytle while 
directing the movements of his brigade, on 
horseback, was shot and killed by a ball which 
struck him in the head. He was the only 
Union officer of high rank who fell that day. 

The manuscript journal of Captain Alfred 
Pirtle, aide-de-camp on General Lytle's staff, 
affords an accurate and sympathetic descrip- 
tion of the general's personal aspect and con- 
duct on the battle-field just before the onslaught 
in which his life was lost. The journal says: 

" The Eighty-eighth Illinois, led by General 
Lytle, charged the enemy and took position on 
the top of a gentle slope. A few moments 



William Haines Lytle 39 

after, the Thirty-sixth Illinois joins them, and 
then the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin moves up to 
the support of the Thirty-sixth Illinois. Our 
other regiment, the Twenty-first Michigan, is 
also soon engaged, and a section of the Eleventh 
Indiana Battery pushed up the hill by hand. 

" The general is sitting on his horse at this 
time, facing south, his left side toward the en- 
emy, grasping in military style his reins in his 
left hand; his sword drawn, the blade sloping 
upward, rests upon the reins. He wears high 
top boots, plain dark blue pants, overcoat with- 
out ornament or cape, buttoned to the throat, 
with sword-belt outside — the only mark of rank 
being the gold cord of a general on a military 
hat; under his overcoat he wears a single- 
breasted blouse with brigadier-general shoulder- 
straps. His horse is caparisoned as becomes his 
rank. Upon his face is an indescribable ex- 
pression caused by what is called the 6 battle- 
fire ' — a spirit of enthusiasm brought on by the 
tremendous excitement of the conflict, which ir- 



40 William Haines Lytle 

radiates every feature, sparkles from his eyes, 
marks with sharp outlines the curves of the 
nostrils, and seems ready to leap forth in words 
from his parted lips. I can almost see him 
now. 

" He leans toward me, and I bend to catch his 
words, while he calmly says with a firm voice, 
4 Pirtle, I am hit. 5 For an instant I can not 
speak; my heart almost ceases to beat, but I 
say, ' Are you hit hard, General?' ' In the 
spine ; if I have to leave the field, you stay here 
and see that all goes right. 5 ' I will, General. 5 
And then, after a pause, I say, ' Good-by, ? 
not knowing whether he is going or not. 

" The enemy 5 s fire is heavier, indicating that 
they are reinforced, while our men drop fast. 
A moment or two after, in order to strengthen 
the thin line, he sent me away to bring up a 
regiment that had fallen back below the brow 
of the hill. While doing this, the line began to 
give way, the generaPs horse galloped wildly 
down the hill, and I felt that he had fallen from 



William Haines Lytle 41 

his wound. My horse was wounded by an ex- 
ploding shell, escaping from me in his terror 
and pain, but I made an effort to get back to 
the spot where I had left the general, till the 
tide of men retiring in some confusion, forced 
me to turn from my direct path, and I could 
not approach the scene, as our line was being 
driven back. I was told that General Lytle 
was killed, and with a heart almost bursting 
with emotion, I joined in the retreat. 

" After the battle, I met one of our orderlies, 
a soldier of the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin, who 
was ever ready to do the utmost for the gen- 
eral, and who said he reached General Lytle's 
side after he had fallen from his horse, lying 
speechless, but he handed him his sword and 
motioned him from the field." 

The desperate final dash, which Captain Pir- 
tle could not witness, was described by others 
who saw the close of the dread drama. Lytle 
said to his staff before the third and last onset 
which he led that day, " All right, men ! We 



42 William Haines Lytle 

can die but once! This is our time and place. 
Let us charge ! " 

Captain E. B. Parsons, commander of Com- 
pany K, Twenty-fourth Wisconsin Volunteers, 
whose private letters to his parents and others 
written at Chattanooga, in October, 1863, have 
been consulted in the preparation of this 
memoir, narrating the particulars of the fatal 
charge, says : " From the moment I saw an aide 
from General Sheridan ride to General Lytle 
with an order for him to bring his brigade into 
action, he was constantly in my sight up to the 
moment he was shot. A few moments before we 
were ordered in, he rode down alone near where 
I was standing, and as I saluted him, he wheeled 
his horse around and, speaking to the men of 
my company, said : ' Boys, if we whip them to- 
day, we will eat our Christmas dinner at home.' 
Soon the bugles rang out and we started, our 
regiment following the battery, and as we left 
the road and formed line of battle, General 
Lytle and his staff rode right behind the center 



William Haines Lytle 43 

of our regiment, and he remained there until he 
was shot. Almost the last words he uttered 
were, ' Brave, brave, brave boys ! ' As I was 
looking into his face, a ball struck him, and it 
seemed to me must have struck him in the face 
or head, for the blood flowed from his mouth. 
He did not fall from his horse, but one of his 
staff officers eased him down on the ground." 

The young officer who received the dying gen- 
eral into his arms was Captain Howard Greene, 
of the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin. In a letter to 
Dr. N. Foster, dated November 1, 1863, he 
gives the following particulars : " We had been 
hotly engaged with the enemy for nearly half 
an hour before he was struck. At the time the 
general and myself were on horseback, in the 
front line. He had just turned to give an 
order, when he was struck in the face. He 
was no sooner struck than he reeled in his 
saddle and I saw at once that he was seriously 
wounded, and that, unless caught by some one, 
he would fall headlong to the ground. I jumped 



44 William Haines Lytle 

from my horse, caught him by the head and 
shoulders, and lifted him carefully down. He 
recognized me as I caught him, and tried to 
speak." . . . "I called Passmore and Sill- 
cox, two of the general's orderlies, to me, and 
we then started with the body to the rear. We 
had gone but a short distance when we met 
Colonel J. F. Harrison coming up with a regi- 
ment he had been rallying. As soon as he saw 
us, he jumped from his horse and helped us 
carry the general. A few steps further on, 
Sillcox was killed. By this time the brigade 
had broken, and was going past us to the rear. 
It was just at this time that Lytle opened his 
eyes and tried to speak, but could not. I asked 
him if he wished to lie down, and he nodded." 
..." Soon after this the general breathed 
his last. Colonel Harrison then left to rally his 
men, and I was left alone with the body. I 
knelt down by the general's side and satisfied 
myself that he was indeed lifeless. By this 
time the rebels were closing in from our left and 



William Haines Lytle 45 

were not a hundred feet away, and, feeling sat- 
isfied that I could be of no further use to the 
general, I also went to the rear." 

Within less than a month after this letter was 
written, the brave Captain Greene was himself 
killed (November 25th), in the charge at Mis- 
sion Ridge. 

The gallant Colonel Wm. B. McCreery, of 
the Twenty-first Michigan Infantry, was one of 
those who helped to bear the general from the 
field, and while so doing was himself wounded, 
taken prisoner, and afterward confined in 
Libby. 

General Lytle had been carried to a green 
knoll under a tree, where his body was after- 
ward recognized by Confederate officers. The 
respectful and even reverential care which it 
received at the hands of the enemy was owing 
largely to the fact that the dead general was 
recognized not only as a distinguished soldier, 
but also as a poet. A Confederate major, 
Douglas West, of General Zack Deas' brigade, 



46 William Haines Lytle 

was requested by a Federal officer to protect 
the body of the dead general. West relates 
that, on hearing the name Lytle, he was thrilled, 
being " familiar with the poem which made the 
name immortal." Major West took in his keep- 
ing the general's sword-belt and scabbard, pis- 
tol, portemonnaie, memorandum book, spurs, 
and even his shoulder-straps. " That night," 
he says, " in our bivouac by the camp-fire, we 
read the papers, letters, and scraps of poetry 
that we found in the pocket-book." 

The Confederate officer, Colonel Wm. Miller 
Owen, in his reminiscences of the Civil War, re- 
lates that, while riding o~v^ the battle-field of 
Chickamauga, on September 20, 1863, he came 
upon the body of General Lytle, which he 
recognized as that of an old friend. He says: 
" A Confederate soldier was standing guard 
over the body. Dismounting, I asked the man 
his instructions, and he replied : ' I am here to 
take charge of this body, and to allow no one 
to touch it.' ' All right,' I said, ' I hope you 



William Haines Lytle 47 

will do it.' Lytle was dressed in fatigue uni- 
form. His shoulder-straps, one star, indicated 
his rank as a brigadier-general. He wore high 
riding boots, a regulation overcoat, dark kid- 
gloves. While standing beside the body, Gen- 
eral Preston rode up, and asked : ' Who have 
you there ? ' I replied : ' General Lytle, of Cin- 
cinnati.' ' Ah ! ' said General Preston, ' Gen- 
eral Lytle, the son of my old friend Bob Lytle ! 
I am sorry it is so. 9 And he then dismounted, 
and was much affected. After asking the sen- 
tinel his instructions, and receiving the same 
answer I had obtained, he said to him : ' See 
that you do it, my man.' " 

A beautiful instance of personal friendship 
between enemies in war, was afforded by the 
conduct of a Confederate surgeon, E. W. 
Thomason, who had been a fellow-soldier with 
Lytle in Mexico, and, who, recognizing the body 
of his old comrade on the field of Chickamauga, 
had it carried to his tent, gave it decent burial, 
and marked the grave. The wounds on the 



48 William Haines Lytle 

face of the dead officer his Southern friend cov- 
ered first with green leaves, then with a lace net 
and a fine cambric handkerchief. Nor did a 
thoughtful sympathy forget a still more deli- 
cate care. The surgeon clipped some locks 
of the slain soldier's hair, and sent them to the 
sisters of Lytle in Cincinnati. The articles 
found on his person were forwarded also. In 
his pocket-book were found a printed copy of 
a poem, of unknown authorship, entitled, 
" Company K," and a letter from his sister, 
Mrs. Broadwell. 

The remains of General Lytle had been buried 
twenty days when they were recovered by Colo- 
nel Ward of the Tenth Ohio, who bore a flag 
of truce to the Confederate lines. An escort of 
ten men from the Tenth Ohio, in charge of Lieu- 
tenant Donahue, conveyed the body to Louis- 
ville, where it was met by the slain general's 
brother-in-law, Dr. Foster, and placed on the 
mail-boat Nightingale. The boat reached Cin- 
cinnati at twelve o'clock, Wednesday, October 21. 



William Haines Lytle 49 

On their arrival, the remains were received 
by a company of sixty men from the Seventh 
Ohio militia, under command of Captain R. W. 
Carroll, and were escorted to the court-house 
and laid in state in the rotunda. The black 
coffin, with massive silver mountings, was placed 
on a dais in the center of the room, and was 
strewn with white roses. Four sentries guarded 
the body. One of these, a private of the old 
Tenth, having been ordered to keep still until 
relieved, stood at " order arms " for two hours, 
without moving a muscle, no one relieving him 
by some neglect. Being asked how long he in- 
tended to remain on guard in that rigid atti- 
tude, he said : " Forever, if not regularly re- 
lieved." Such was the soldier's idea of dis- 
cipline and fidelity. 

During the afternoon a multitude of citizens, 
men and women, poured into the rotunda to 
look upon the casket that contained their hero's 
clay, over which the tattered flag of the Tenth 
Ohio drooped its mournful folds. Of those who 



50 William Haines Lytle 

paid tributes of grief that day, no one was more 
sincere than the aged colored servant who had 
been with General Lytle in his campaigns, 
and now stood weeping at the foot of the 
coffin. 

At sunset the body was taken from the court- 
house, and escorted to the residence of General 
Lytle's brother-in-law, Mr. S. J. Broadwell. 

The funeral obsequies of General Lytle were 
conducted with much solemnity, on the after- 
noon of Thursday, October 22, 1863. From an 
excellent editorial report, published in the Daily 
Commercial, the following account of the 
solemn ceremonies is condensed. 

At one o'clock the doors of Christ Church, on 
Fourth street, were opened to the ladies, many 
of whom were already waiting. Many of the 
mothers and wives and sisters of those who had 
gone out with the brave Lytle to fight the bat- 
tles of their country, took this opportunity of 
showing that respect for the fallen hero which 
they would wish to have shown to their own 



• William Haines Lytle 51 

dear ones. To prevent crowding the church, 
no gentlemen were admitted at first, save those 
mentioned in the order of the day. The judges 
of the courts, members of the bar, the city 
council, the clergy, and others, entered and 
were seated in bodies by themselves. All the 
room except that required for the relatives and 
special friends was thus occupied. 

At two o'clock the dirge from the band in 
the street announced the approach of the 
cortege. The deep and solemn tones of the or- 
gan inside the church responded to the music 
from without. At the door the remains of the 
departed general were met by Bishop Mcllvaine 
and Rev. Mr. McCarty, pastor of the church, 
and as with measured steps they led the way 
to the altar, the congregation rose, and the 
bishop read from the liturgy. Prayer and an 
anthem closed the services. The guard from 
the Tenth Ohio, who had attended the body 
faithfully from the day it left Chattanooga, 
then carried the coffin back to the hearse; the 



52 William Haines Lytle 

mourners and several delegations followed, and 
entered the carriages in waiting. 

The streets were lined with spectators, and 
Fourth street, from Broadway to Race, was 
completely blocked. Along the line of march, 
many beautiful flags were hung out, tied with 
crape, and in all parts of the city they drooped 
at half-mast. 

The military display was the largest ever 
seen at any funeral obsequies in this city. Our 
four militia regiments were out in force. After 
the long lines of infantry in platoons, with arms 
reversed, and marching to the solemn dirges 
played by the bands, came a battery of artil- 
lery, two guns abreast. 

The hearse, surrounded by a cluster of dis- 
tinguished pall-bearers, followed the battery. 
It was drawn by six milk-white horses, with 
black plumes, and was draped with emblems of 
mourning. The coffin was partially covered 
with a beautiful silk flag. Behind the hearse 
stepped the charger of the departed hero, with 



William Haines Lytle 53 

the boots of the fallen rider depending from 
either side of the saddle. 

Carriages containing his staff and relatives 
came next, while near by walked the aged 
negro servant of the general, who was once the 
waiting man of Commodore Perry, now fol- 
lowing the dead body of his second hero-master 
to the grave. 

Not far behind, the tattered banner of the 
Tenth Ohio was borne by some of the sturdy 
arms which, under its folds, had struck heavily 
at the rebellion on more than one field. It is 
now a mere tatter of silk, grimed with expo- 
sure. It was closely furled and inclosed in fes- 
toons of crape, tied at intervals with black silk 
ribbons. 

An immense retinue of carriages, containing 
the mayor and city officials, bar, numerous navy 
and army officers, and many distinguished pri- 
vate citizens, brought up the rear of the proces- 
sion. The police, handsomely uniformed, were 
in advance. The procession occupied about 



54 William Haines Lytle 

half an hour in passing. It proceeded out 
Freeman street to Hamilton road, where the 
escort drew aside and permitted the hearse and 
carriages to pass on to Spring Grove, where 
all that is mortal of the gifted and noble- 
hearted Lytle now reposes, near the city of his 
birth and love. 

A large number of distinguished officers, in- 
cluding, probably, all who could reach the city, 
attended the funeral as mourners. Among the 
number was General Stanley, commanding the 
cavalry of the Army of the Cumberland. 

The Lytle monument stands in the beautiful 
cemetery of Spring Grove in Cincinnati's 
suburbs. It is of the Grecian order of archi- 
tecture, twenty-four and a half feet high, and 
is made of pure Carrara marble. Upon the 
east and west sides are sculptured suspended 
laurel wreaths. The east side has the name of 
William Lytle; the west, that of Robert T. 
Lytle. The north side shows the symbolic 
scroll and pen; underneath is inscribed the 



» William Haines Lytle 55 

name of General William H. Lytle. The south 
side is adorned by a bas-relief representing the 
battle-field of Chickamauga. The general, 
seated on his horse, and with drawn sword, is 
in the act of leading the charging columns on 
that fatal day. The bas-relief is surmounted 
by a cap adorned with shield and cross-swords. 
Above all these springs a thirteen fluted column, 
suggestively broken off. On the top is an eagle 
holding a garland of laurel leaves. It is a 
tasteful and appropriate tribute of affection 
from the general's sisters to their family. 

The quality of W. H. Lytle's personality 
was shown in all he said and did. In him, the 
boy was father to the man, and his days were 
" linked each to each," with consistent achieve- 
ments. The reputation which the public gave 
the hero represented truly his character. There 
were " no tricks " in his " plain and honest 
faith. 55 That he was a man of energy, of in- 
tegrity, of courage, of generosity, every act 
of his life illustrates. The martial impulse and 



56 William Haines Lytle 

habit controlled his destiny, molded his think- 
ing, and colored his language. Nevertheless, he 
loved peace and the quiet employments of the 
scholar. Though he did not marry, his verses 
give ample testimony that he loved and honored 
woman, and had strong domestic instincts as 
well as ardent passions. In one of his gay 
madrigals written in the year before his death, 
he sang: 

" But when the birds of morning sing, 
And all the wars are over, 
Our lances at your feet we'll fling, 
And then we'll play the lover." 

The chivalric temper was shown throughout 
his history ; he was the Bayard of a democratic 
land. Masculine, vigorous, gallant, he had in 
him the supreme virtue, manliness. Manly he 
was, and also gentlemanly. General Banning 
relates that when General Lytle was preparing 
himself for his terrible last battle, he was ob- 
served to be in full uniform, and while pulling 
on his gloves said merrily, in reply to a question 



William Haines Lytle 5*7 

why he had taken such care with his toilet, " I 
have tried to live like a gentleman, and I pro- 
pose to die like one." 

General Lytle was a handsome man, of slight 
and graceful build, but well developed, erect, 
and nervous. Like that of Wordsworth's Wan- 
derer, " his whole figure breathed intelligence. 55 
His complexion was delicate, of a rosy softness 
almost feminine, his eyes were gray, and his 
brown hair lay in rich, silken masses over a 
high forehead. The mouth was firm, indica- 
tive of resolute character. Altogether the face 
was expressive of intellect and sentiment — an 
interesting face, capable of assuming the stern 
frown of anger, and the sweetest smile of affec- 
tion. 

To summarize the hero 5 s life and character 
in a few lines, we borrow the words of the 
great Ben Jonson, who, in his ode to the mem- 
ory of Sir H. Morison, exactly portrays Wil- 
liam H. Lytle. We have only to substitute one 
name for the other: 



58 William Haines Lytle 

"Alas! but Morison fell young; 

He never fell — thou fall'st, my tongue, 
He stood a soldier to the last right end, 
A perfect patriot and a noble friend; 

But most, a virtuous son, 

All offices were done 
By him so ample, full, and round, 
In weight, in measure, number, sound, 
As, though his age imperfect might appear, 
His life was of humanity the sphere." 



Within the period of thirty-seven years, 
measuring the short life of William H. Lytle, 
he proved himself a good scholar, a successful 
lawyer, an influential politician and legislator, 
and a military commander of great courage, 
skill, and popularity. He was also an orator 
of uncommon ability. To his triumphs achieved 
at the bar, on the floor of the House of Rep- 
resentatives, and in the army, must be added 
his accomplishments in literature, especially 
poetry. Mr. Leslie J. Perry, of Washington, 
D. C, in a discriminating article on the 
" Warrior-Poet," ventures to say that, " Not- 
withstanding his military fame already earned, 



William Haines Lytle 59 

notwithstanding the high encomiums passed 
upon him by his commander and brother offi- 
cers, I judge that William Haines Lytle is 
already better, and will be longer, remembered 
as the author of a little poem than as a soldier 
of the republic." Time alone can verify or dis- 
prove the correctness of this opinion ; but there 
seems no reason for not prophesying that 
Lytle's sword and pen will be remembered to- 
gether, and that each will add sacredness to 
the other. It is no detraction from the meed 
of the most famous martial chieftain to mag- 
nify his literary victories. Renown in arms is 
doubly dignified in the hero illustrious in let- 
ters. For, after all is said 5 there is ineffable 
truth in the line of the poet, Coates Kinney, 
who sings: 

"To be immortal thou must think a thought." 

So fugitive is the fame even of the most 
eminent and worthy that their memory is apt 
to fade fast as the flowers on the grave. Wars 



60 William Haines Lytle 

come and pass, but the conflict of life, like 
a perpetual Chickamauga, storms on around 
the generations, and yesterday's idol is for- 
gotten to-day. Therefore it is no small or 
common distinction to gain by sword or pen, 
or both, such recognition among men as in- 
sures, not immortality on earth, but even fifty 
years of posthumous fame. More than thirty 
years have now elapsed since General Lytle 
passed away, and the interest in his poetry, 
far from abating, is now keener than ever 
before. 1 

There are poets of repute, of whose verse 
not so much as a single stanza finds lodgement 
in the popular memory ; there are poems of un- 
known authorship of such haunting charm that 



1 Since the first edition of this book was issued, in 
1894, representative poems of William Haines Lytle 
have appeared in various standard collections, including 
Stedman's " An American Anthology," Egbert Burton 
Stevenson's " Poems of American History," and Emer- 
son Venable's " Poets of Ohio," in which last named 
volume Lytle is accorded a distinguished place. 



William Haines Lytle 61 

everybody knows them by heart ; and now and 
then a rare soul, born gifted with the faculty 
divine, leaves his name embalmed in some nobly 
inspired poem produced by him in a happy cre- 
ative hour. Such a favored being was William 
Haines Lytle, who bequeathed to the world the 
spontaneous lyric, " Antony and Cleopatra," 
one of those immortal songs 

"Which always find us young, 
And always keep us so." 

Bryant's " Library of Poetry and Song " is 
held responsible for having first put into cir- 
culation the absurd fiction that Lytle's famous 
poem was written while the author lay mortally 
wounded after the battle of Chickamauga. The 
true history of the composition of the poem is 
this : " Antony and Cleopatra " was written at 
the Lytle homestead in the summer of 1858. The 
original manuscript — long in the possession of 
the poet's sister, Mrs. Josephine R. Foster — 
was dashed off in a glow of creative excitement 



62 William Haines Lytle 

by the author, who left it lying upon a writ- 
ing-table in his private room. There it was 
found by Wm. W. Fosdick, an intimate friend 
of Lytle, and himself a poet of more than local 
celebrity. "Who wrote this, Lytle? " inquired 
Fosdick, after reading the poem. " Why, I 
did," answered Lytle. " How do you like it? " 
Fosdick expressed admiration for the verses, 
and taking the liberty of a literary comrade, 
he carried a copy of the manuscript away and 
gave it to the editor of the Cincinnati Com- 
mercial, with the explanatory note : " Ed's 

Com. — The following lines from our gifted and 
gallant townsman, General William H. Lytle, 
we think, constitute one of the most masterly 
lyrics which has ever adorned American poetry ; 
and we predict a popularity and perpetuity for 
it unsurpassed by any Western production. — 
W. W. F." The poem appeared in the Com- 
mercial on July 29, 1858. 

The poem " Antony and Cleopatra " is en- 
joyed not only by the uncritical reader, "too 



William Haines Lytle 63 

simple to admire," but by exacting judges in 
literary art. For, though not a perfect piece 
of artistic work 5 it is of masterly power, and 
sustained excellence of style. The vigor never 
flags, the passionate swell of its music mounts 
higher and higher to the climax in the last line. 
No lapse into bathos, no straining for rhetor- 
ical effect impairs the dignity of the verse, 
which moves on with a rapid and intense but 
sincere and solemn energy from the beginning 
to the close. It is hard to decide whether the 
dramatic or the lyric element predominates, for, 
while the imperative song recalls action and the 
rush of war, subjective feeling surcharges 
every stanza — and, while remembering Rome 
and glory, Antony dies triumphing in the love 
of " Egypt." 

The strong and beautiful poem, " Antony 
and Cleopatra," is the author's masterpiece, 
certainly, but not by any means his only good 
poem. The reader will find among the pieces, 
now for the first time collected, several produc- 



64 William Haines Lytle 

tions of such merit as to demonstrate the in- 
justice of ranking Lytle among the " one-poem 
poets, 55 though some of these rank very high. 
The apostrophe to " Popocatapetl 55 is a fine 
poetical conception, well wrought out, and 
shows how carefully this poet was capable of 
finishing his work, which, it must be admitted, 
he too seldom took pains to elaborate. " Mac- 
donald 5 s Drummer 55 is a brilliant descriptive 
ballad, full of pathos. The " Brigand 5 s Song, 55 
" Jaqueline, 55 " Sailing on the Sea, 55 and " The 
Volunteers, 55 picture in the glowing colors of 
romance, the adventures of love and war, and 
the objective delights and darings of hot- 
blooded youth. 

The martial strain best suited the genius of 
Lytle 5 s muse. The " Antony and Cleopatra 55 
is essentially a song of war. The greater num- 
ber of the selections in the book treat of mili- 
tary and patriotic subjects, and the war poems 
are undoubtedly superior to the rest. All along 
the pages are scattered epithets and phrases 



William Haines Lytle 65 

exulting in " the big war," " the glittering 
guard, 55 " clanking spurs," " waving plumes, 55 
" freeman 5 s sword, 55 " bugle note, 55 and " roll 
of drums. 55 

Next after the war songs, in number and in 
merit, come madrigals of love, of which " Fare- 
well, 55 " Sweet May Moon, 55 " Valentine, 55 and 
" Two Years Ago, 55 are good examples. The 
most artistic of the poems of the amatory class 
is the passionate " Anacreontic, 55 especially the 
first two stanzas which, in warm imagery and 
melodious singing quality, suggest the lost art 
of Marlowe and Ben Jonson. But the senti- 
ment and also the style of Lytle 5 s verse are 
not much influenced by the Elizabethan litera- 
ture. They belong more to the romantic 
school of the first part of the nineteenth 
century. 

The influence of Byron, Moore, and Shelley 
is plainly discernible in the form, and to some 
extent in the substance, of some of Lytle 5 s po- 
etry. In the " Haunted River, 55 and one or two 



66 William Haines Lytle 

other pieces, echoes seem to come from the 
sounding gallery of Edgar A. Poe. 

Critics will notice, in the poems here col- 
lected, some faulty metaphors, and a few de- 
fects in meter and rhyme. But we must not 
forget that General Lytle had little leisure for 
literary study and composition, and made no 
claim to proficiency in the artistry of poetics ; 
nor were the poems ever subjected to the 
author's careful revision for publication. He 
wrote for pleasure and from impulse, more ab- 
sorbed in the poetical contents of his work than 
in precise, technical forms. Those pieces 
marked by a date earlier than 1847, are to be 
judged as juvenile productions. 

One cannot read the poems of William 
Haines Lytle without being impressed by a 
serious tone of morality and religion which 
pervades them. They breathe, besides, pure pa- 
triotism, tender regard for kindred, and loyalty 
to friends. The poet, in his solitary hours, 
meditated deeply on human life and destiny, 



William Haines Lytle 67 

and read deep lessons in nature — in trees and 
streams^ in mountains and stars. His moods 
were sometimes tinged with melancholy, that 
infinite disappointment which comes to those 
who vainly seek on earth to realize the poet's 
visions and dreams. 



POEMS 



POEMS 

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 

I am dying, Egypt, dying! 

Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, 
And the dark Plutonian shadows 

Gather on the evening blast; 
Let thine arm, oh Queen, enfold me, 

Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear, 
Listen to the great heart secrets 

Thou, and thou alone, must hear. 

Though my scarred and veteran legions 
Bear their eagles high no more, 

And my wrecked and scattered galleys 
Strew dark Actium's fatal shore; 

Though no glittering guards surround me, 

Prompt to do their master's will, 
71 



72 William Haines Lytle 

I must perish like a Roman, 
Die the great Triumvir still. 

Let not Caesar's servile minions, 

Mock the lion thus laid low; 
'Twas no foeman's arm that felled him, 

'Twas his own that struck the blow — 
His who, pillowed on thy bosom, 

Turned aside from glory's ray — 
His who, drunk with thy caresses, 

Madly threw a world away. 

Should the base plebeian rabble 

Dare assail my name at Rome, 
Where the noble spouse, Octavia, 

Weeps within her widowed home, 
Seek her; say the gods bear witness, — 

Altars, augurs, circling wings, — 
That her blood, with mine commingled, 

Yet shall mount the thrones of kings. 

And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian — 
Glorious sorceress of the Nile! 



, Antony and Cleopatra 73 

Light the path to Stygian horrors 
With the splendors of thy smile; 

Give the Csesar crowns and arches, 
Let his brow the laurel twine, 

I can scorn the senate's triumphs, 
Triumphing in love like thine. 

I am dying, Egypt, dying; 

Hark! the insulting foeman's cry; 
They are coming; quick, my falchion! 

Let me front them ere I die. 
Ah, no more amid the battle 

Shall my heart exulting swell; 
Isis and Osiris guard thee, — 

Cleopatra, Rome, farewell! 



1858. 



74 William Haines Lytle 



POPOCATAPETL. 

Pale peak, afar 
Gilds thy white pinnacle, a single star, 
While sharply on the deep blue sky thy snows 
In death-like calm repose. 

The nightingale 
Through " Mira Flores " bowers repeats her 

tale, 
And every rose its perfumed censer swings 
With vesper offerings. 

But not for thee, 
Diademed king, this love-born minstrelsy, 
Nor yet the tropic gales that gently blow 
Through these blest vales below. 

Around thy form 
Hover the mid-air fiends, the lightning warm, 



Popocatapetl 75 

Thunder, and by the driving hurricane, 
In wrecks thy pines are slain. 

Deep in thy heart 
Burn on vast fires, struggling to rend apart 
Their prison walls, and then in wrath be hurled 
Blazing upon the world. 

In vain conspire 
Against thy majesty tempest and fire; 
The elemental wars of madness born, 

Serene, thou laugh'st to scorn. 

Calm art thou now 
As when the Aztec, on thine awful brow, 
Gazed on some eve like this from Chalco's shore, 
Where lives his name no more. 

And thou hast seen 
Glitter in dark defiles the ominous sheen 
Of lances, and hast heard the battle-cry 
Of Castile's chivalry. 



76 William Haines Lytle 

And yet again 
Hast seen strange banners steering o'er the 

main, 
When from his eyrie soared to conquest forth 
The Eagle of the North. 

Yet, at thy feet, 
While rolling on, the tides of empire beat, 
Thou art, oh mountain, on thy world-piled 
throne, 

Of all, unchanged alone. 

Type of a power 
Supreme, thy solemn silence at this hour 
Speaks to the nations of the Almighty Word 
Which at thy birth was stirred. 

Prophet sublime! 
Wide on the morning's wings will float the 

chime 
Of martial horns; yet 'mid the din thy spell 
Shall sway me still — farewell ! 



Brigand's Song 77 



BRIGAND'S SONG. 

Through the Sierra's wild ravines 

An old grandee of Spain 
Is passing with his dark-eyed girls 

And all his gorgeous train; 
The spoil is rich, the guard is weak, 

The way is rough and long, 
So bathe your lips in foaming wine, 
And chant your parting song. 
Drink, brothers, drink, 

Drink, men, and away; 
Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
We'll bask before the day. 

The moon is in the azure skies, 
The stars are by her side, 

They glitter in her path of light 
Like maids around a bride; 



78 William Haines Lytle 

Like night-birds let us sally forth 

Where booty may be won; 
So whet the poignard's polished edge. 
And gird your carbines on. 
Arm, brothers, arm, 

Arm, men, and away; 
Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
We'll bask before the day. 



All hail to-night ; for since the world 

Was made in times of old, 
The day has been for coward knaves, 

The night time for the bold; 
Hark! to the mule-bells' distant chime, 

Our lady, grant a boon, 
That ere an hour the ring of steel 
May drown their jingling tune. 
Mount, brothers, mount, 

Mount, men, and away; 
Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
We'll bask before the day. 



Brigand's Song 79 

To horse ! Hurra — with thundering press 

Over the plain we glide, 
Around the startled hamlet's edge 

And up the mountain side; 
With waving plumes and clanking spurs, 

We sweep along like wind ; 
Our beacon on the rugged cliff 
Is flaming far behind. 
Ride, brothers, ride, 

Ride, men, and away; 
Adieu, seiioras, in your smiles 
We'll bask before the day. 



80 William Haines Lytle 



SAILING ON THE SEA. 

" Where is my heart's dearest, 

Where can he be ? " 
" In his tall ship, Marguerite, 

Sailing on the sea; 
Sailing with a gallant crew, 

Winds a-blowing free " — 
" Ah ! he vowed he soon would come 

Home to wed with me ! " 

" Should he never, Marguerite, 

Come back to thee, 
Thou canst find another love — ' 

I thy love will be; 
Then far away to Indian isles 

Let us quickly flee, 
Pine no more for truant hearts 

Sailing on the sea." 



Sailing on the Sea 81 

Flashed her eye in anger, 

Proudly turned she 
From the muffled cavalier 

Bending on his knee; 
But away his cloak he flung, 

" Marguerite ! " cried he — 
'Twas her lover! whom she thought 

Sailing on the sea. 



82 William Haines Lytle 



ANACREONTIC. 

Nay, frown not, fairest, chide no more, 

Nor blame the blushing wine; 
Its fiery kiss is innocent, 

When thrills the pulse with thine. 
So leave the goblet in my hand, 

But veil thy glances bright, 
Lest wine and beauty mingling 

Should wreck my soul to-night. 

Then, Ida, to the ancient rim 

In sculptured beauty rare, 
Bow down thy red-arched lip and quaff 

The wine that conquers care; 
Or breathe upon the shining cup 

Till that its perfume be 
Sweet as the scent of orange groves, 

Upon some tropic sea. 



Anacreontic 83 

And while thy fingers idly stray 

In dalliance o'er the lyre, 
Sing to me, love, some rare old song 

That gushed from heart of fire — 
Song such as Grecian phalanx hymned 

When freedom's field was won, 
And Persia's glory with the light 

Faded at Marathon. 

Sing till the shouts of armed men 

Ring bravely out once more: 
Sing till again the ghost-white tents 

Shine on the moon-lit shore ; 
Bid from their melancholy graves 

The buried hopes to start, 
I knew ere many a storm had swept 

The dew-drops from my heart. 

Sing the deep memories of the past, 

My soul shall follow thee. 
Its boundless depths re-echoing 

Thy glorious minstrelsy; 



84 William Haines Lytle 

And as the wild vibrations hang 

Enfettered on the air, 
I'll drink, thy white arms round me, love, 

The wine that conquers care. 



Jacqueline 85 



JACQUELINE. 1 

Almond-eyed Jacqueline beckoned to me, 
As our troop rode home from mounting 
guard, 
And I saw Gil Perez's brow grow dark, 

While his face seemed longer by half a yard. 
What care I for the Spaniard's ire, 
His haughty lip and glance of fire; 
What so fit for these Southern lords 
As the tempered edges of freemen's swords? 

Say, shall an Alva's merciless bands 

Their hands in our noblest blood imbrue, 

And then with accursed foreign wiles, 
Our gentle Northern girls pursue? 

Hail to him who for freedom strikes! 

Up with your banners and down with the dykes ! 

1 A ballad of the " Low Countries," a.d. 1567. 



86 William Haines Lytle 

Better be whelmed 'neath ocean waves 
Than live like cowards the lives of slaves. 

Haughty Gil Perez may then beware, 

For we love our blue-eyed Leyden girls, 
And would welcome the shock of Toledo blades 
Were the prize but a lock of their golden 
curls. 
Hope on, brothers, the day shall come 
With flaunting of banner and rolling of drum, 
When William the Silent shall rally his men 
And scourge these wolves to their homes again. 



A Fragment 87 



A FRAGMENT. 

There in our cloisters green, spangled with 

flowers, 
We'll ponder o'er the page which God hath 

spread, 
And drink its wonders ; the gorgeous vestment 
Flaming with gold and crimson, nature flings 
Over the fainting day. The rose-lipped morn 
Night garlanded with stars, the universe 
Teeming with rich benevolence, shall teach 
Our hearts to mingle in a sweet communion, 
So warm and glowing that the hoary Earth 
In love's sweet light shall wear another youth 
And bloom as in the old primeval garden. 
The sands of life shall all be turned to gold, 
Our lives, unchilled by frost, or storm, or hail, 
Shall slowly wear away, till like ripe fruit 
We yield our spirit to the gleaner — Death. 



88 William Haines Lytle 



MACDONALD'S DRUMMER. 1 

A drummer-boy from fair Bayonne 

By love of glory lured, 
With bold Macdonald's stern array 

The pains of war endured. 
And now amid those dizzy heights 

That girt the Splugen dread, 
The silent columns struggled on, 

And he marched at their head. 

Then in those regions cold and dim, 

With endless winter cursed, 
The Alpine storm arose and scowled 

And forth in fury burst — 
Burst forth on the devoted ranks, 

Ambition's dauntless brood, 
That thus with sword and lance profaned 

Old Winter's solitude. 

1 See Headley's account of the passage of the Splu- 
gen, by Marshal Macdonald. 



Macdonald's Drummer 89 

" Down ! down ! upon your faces fall ; 

Cling to the guns! for, lo, 
The chamois on this slippery track 

Would dread yon gulf below ! " 
So speeds the word from front to rear, 

And veterans to the storm 
Bowed low, who ne'er in battle bowed 

To aught in foeman's form. 

But hark! what horror swells the gale — 

Beware, oh sons of France! 
Beware the avalanche whose home 

Is 'mid these mountain haunts. 
Yon distant thunder — 'tis its voice! 

The bravest held his breath, 
And silently a prayer put up 

To die a soldier's death. 

And near and nearer with a roar 
That loud and louder swelled, 

The avalanche down glaciers broad 
Its lightning pathway held; 



90 William Haines Lytle 

And through the shivering ranks it crashed, 
And then with one vast stride 

Swept down the gulf, till far below 
Its muttering thunders died. 

In vain Italians sunny plains 

And reeling vines invite; 
Full many a soldier found his shroud 

'Mid Alpine snows that night ; 
And he, his comrades 5 pride and boast, 

The lad from fair Bayonne? 
The roll was called, no voice replied, — 

The drummer-boy was gone. 

Gone! gone! but hark, from the abyss, 

What sounds so faintly come, 
Amid the pauses of the storm? 

It is — it is — the drum! 
He lives, he beats for aid, he sounds 

The old familiar call, 
That to the battery's smoking throat 

Had brought his comrades all. 



Macdonald's Drummer 91 

Over the dizzy verge that eve 

With straining eyes they peered, 
And heard the rattling of the drum, 

In echoes strange and weird; 
The notes would cease, and then again 

Would sound — again to fail, 
Until no more their fainting moan 

Came wafted on the gale. 

And when red Wagram's fight was fought, 

And the big war was o'er, 
A dark-haired matron in Bayonne 

Stood watching by her door; 
Stood watching, praying many an hour, 

Till hair and heart grew gray, 
For the bright-eyed boy, who, 'mid the Alps, 

Was sleeping far away. 

And still, belated peasants tell 
How, near that Alpine height, 

They hear the drum-roll loud and clear 
On many a storm-vexed night. 



92 William Haines Lytle 

This story of the olden time 
With sad eyes they repeat, 

And whisper by whose ghostly hands 
The spirit-drum is beat. 



The Volunteers 93 



THE VOLUNTEERS. 

The Volunteers! the Volunteers! 
I dream, as in the by-gone years, 
I hear again their stirring cheers, 

And see their banners shine, 
What time the yet unconquered North 
Pours to the wars her legions forth, 
For many a wrong to strike a blow 
With mailed hand at Mexico. 

The Volunteers! Ah, where are they 
Who bade the hostile surges stay, 
When the black forts of Monterey 
Frowned on their dauntless line? 
When, undismayed amid the shock 
Of war, like Cerro Gordo's rock, 
They stood, or rushed more madly on 
Than tropic tempest o'er San Juan? 



94 William Haines Lytle 

On Angostura's crowded field 

Their shattered columns scorned to yield, 

And wildly yet defiance pealed 

Their flashing batteries' throats; 
And echoed then the rifle's crack, 
As deadly as when on the track 
Of flying foe, of yore, its voice 
Bade Orleans' dark-eyed girls rejoice. 

Blent with the roar of guns and bombs, 
How grandly from the dim past comes 
The roll of their victorious drums, 

Their bugle's joyous notes, 
When over Mexico's proud towers, 
And the fair valley's storied bowers, 
Fit recompense of toil and scars, 
In triumph waved their flag of stars. 

Ah, comrades, of your own tried troop, 
Whose honor ne'er to shame might stoop, 
Of lion heart and eagle swoop, 
But you alone remain; 



The Volunteers 95 

On all the rest has fallen the hush 
Of death; the men whose battle-rush 
Was wild as sun-loosed torrent's flow 
From Orizaba's crest of snow. 

The Volunteers! the Volunteers! 

God send us peace through all our years, 

But if the cloud of war appears, 

We'll see them once again. 
From broad Ohio's peaceful side, 
From where the Maumee pours its tide, 
From storm-lashed Erie's wintry shore, 
Shall spring the Volunteers once more. 



1849. 



96 William Haines Lytle 



•A MIDSUMMER-DAY'S DREAM. 

"That was a crazy business, 
Trouble in every part, 
And many a dashing soldier 
Was quartered in thine heart." 

— Heinrich Heine. 

Through the mellowed lights of the beechwood, 

A river hummed its tune, 
And I sat with Jeannette beside me 

In the still midsummer's noon. 

Jeannette is a haughty lady, 

But I was a throned king, 
Who had bidden the waves, my minstrels, 

To clash their cymbals and sing. 

The incense-laden breezes 

Shed fragrance in their flight, 
Through the stately aisles of my palace, 

Flooded with emerald light. 



A Midsummer-Day's Dream 97 

And she of the rich low voice, 

With music in each soft tone, 
My heart and kingdom all were hers, 

And she was mine alone. 

Through the cool green aisle of the beeches, 

The river hums its tune; 
But no more with Jeannette beside me 

I sit at the still mid-noon. 

From that memory-haunted forest, 

I rode both fast and far; 
For Jeannette is a haughty lady, 

And I am a poor hussar ! 



98 William Haines Lytle 



LINES TO MISS 



My foot's in the stirrup, my hand's on the rein, 
My proud steed is tossing his long-flowing 

mane ; 
Yet, stay for a moment ! I'll wave ere we part 
Another farewell to the girl of my heart. 

How blest was the evening I knelt by her side, 
And watched the Miami's deep willow-fringed 

tide, 
And dreamed a fair dream that love would flow 

ever, 
As smooth and as bright as the beautiful river, 

" Oh, stay ! " said the rose to the wind, as it 

sped ; 
Alas ! in a moment the sighing wind fled. 
" Oh, stay ! " said the lily, " nor leave me 

alone," 
Alas! in a moment the bright wave was gone! 



Lines to Miss 99 

Thus, wave-like and wind-like, from those whom 

we love, 
The bidding of fate oft compels us to rove, 
But memory is laden with love-lighted hours, 
As winds, and the waves, with the fragrance of 

flowers. 

My foot's in the stirrup, my hand's on the rein, 
My good steed is tossing his long-flowing mane, 
One wave of her white hand, one tear from her 

eye- 
Press on, my fleet charger ! Sweet lady — good- 
bye! 



100 William Haines Lytle 



LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 

A legend has told us that Cupid and Death 

Were driven by stress of the weather, 
To an inn where they reveled in mischief and 
fun, 

And cracked a full bumper together. 
But Cupid, the rogue, with the arrows of Death, 

A bunch from his own quiver mingled; 
Thus oft an old swain is smitten by love, 

Whom Death for a victim has singled. 



The Sweet May Moon 101 



THE SWEET MAY MOON. 

The sweet May moon has left the night 

Pensive and sad; 
Another eve, again her light 

Will shine and all be glad. 
But no more, love, will thy quenched beam 
Rekindle life's delicious dream. 

The sweet May moon has left the stars 

Twinkling and bright, 
Fair sentinels amid the wars 

That vex the gentle night. 
But thou, oh! love, hast veiled thy face, 
And left no starlight in thy place. 

The sweet May moon has left the wave 
To sing the while 



102 William Haines Lytle 

In some sea-hidden dreamland cave, 

She hides her mellow smile. 
But thou, oh! love, hast left no voice 
To bid my saddened heart rejoice. 



In Camp 103 



IN CAMP. 

I gazed forth from my wintry tent 

Upon the star-gemmed firmament; 

I heard the far-off sentry's tramp 

Around our mountain-girdled camp 

And saw the ghostly tents uprise 

Like specters 'neath the jeweled skies. 

And thus upon the snow-clad scene, 

So pure and spotless and serene, 

Where locked in sleep ten thousand lay 

Awaiting morn's returning ray, — 

I gazed, till to the sun the drums 

Rolled at the dawn, " He comes, he comes." 

1862. Bardstown, Ky. 



104 William Haines Lytic 



'TIS NOT THE TIME. 

'Tis not the time for dalliance soft 

In gentle ladies 5 bowers, 
When treason flaunts her flag aloft 

And dares to tread on ours. 
Again the swords our fathers wore 

Must in the scabbards rattle, 
And we will sing the songs of yore, 

When marching forth to battle. 

From every pine-clad mountain side, 

From every dimpled valley, 
The bugles ringing far and wide 

Invite the brave to rally. 
And far to East and far to West 

Our iron line advances, 
While freedom's flag, by freemen blessed, 

In glory o'er us dances. 



'Tis Not the Time 105 

But when the birds of morning sing, 

And all the wars are over, 
Our lances at your feet we'll fling, 

And then we'll play the lover. 
And all will say 'tis time to wed, 

As gayly drums shall rattle, 
Before our conquering column's head, 

When marching home from battle. 



1862. 



106 William Haines Lytle 



WHEN THE LONG SHADOWS. 

When the long shadows on my path are lying, 
Will those I love be gathered at my side; 

Clustered around my couch of pain, and trying 
To light the dark way, trod without a guide? 

Shall it be mine, beyond the tossing billow, 
'Neath foreign skies^ to feel the approach of 
death, 
Will stranger hands smooth down my dying 
pillow, 
And watch with kindly heart my failing 
breath? 

Or shall, perchance, the little stars be shining 
On some lone spot, where, far from home and 
friends, 

The way-worn pilgrim on the turf reclining, 
His life and much of grief together ends? 



When the Long Shadows 107 

Ah! whereso'er the closing scene may find me, 
'Mid friends or foemen or in deserts lone, 

May there be some of those I leave behind me 
To shed a tear for me when I am gone. 

Full well I know life's current, onward rushing, 
Sweeps hearts away from spots where they 
would cling, 
And by life's shores fair flowers are ever blush- 
ing, 
That o'er the waves a Lethean fragrance 
fling. 

Yet when the thousand gales of morn are blow- 
ing, 
Or when the bright moon gilds the solemn sea, 
And the sweet stars their smiles on earth are 
throwing, 
In the wide world, will none remember me? 



108 William Haines Lytle 



THE MERRY DAYS OF ELD. 

I have read of an old world 
In the merry days of eld, 
When the knight his armor wore, 
And the king gay tourneys held; 
When the gentle couched the lance, 
And the peasant bore the glave, 
And beauty sweetly smiled upon 
The loyal and the brave. 
Yet mourn not that this stout old world like a 

dream has passed away 5 
That the clang of arms rings out no more, with 

stirring trumpets' fray, 
That the sturdy knight so bold, and the prince 

so stern and proud 
Sleep well, the long and silent sleep, each 
wrapped in his white shroud. 



The Merry Days of Eld 109 

There is festival to-night 
In the castle's lofty hall. 
And the fire logs gleam bright 
On the armor on the wall. 
" Ho ! " shouts the Baron, " Minstrels, 
Let your harps sing merrilie, 
Ho ! fill the cups with foaming wine, 
And drink to Chivalrie." 
But far off on a frosty moor, beside his humble 

cot, 
The shivering serf his fagot rakes, nor mur- 
murs at his lot, 
His voice is hushed, his lips are closed, but his 

eye lets fall a tear, 
When the night wind whispers tones of mirth to 
his unwilling ear. 



The lord rides forth to battle 
For our blessed Savior's shrine, 
He battles with the Paynim 
On the sands of Palestine. 



110 William Haines Lytle 

His deeds shine out in story, 
Of his arm so quick and strong, 
The harper chants his glory forth 
And breathes his name in song. 
But the serf he toils from morning, he toils till 

evening grey, 
With an aching brow and fainting heart he 

plods along his way, 
Grief, like a night-bird, gloomily, sits brooding 

on his soul, 
For him, no deeds of high emprise, no place on 
glory's scroll. 



Oh! these merry tales of eld, 
Of the days that now are gone, 
How they flee before the truth 
Like spirits from the dawn. 
And poets sing of barons, 
Of war, and gay amour, 
But they never yet have caroled 
The sad song of the poor. 



The Merry Days of Eld 111 

Then mourn not that this stout old world like 

a dream has passed away, 
That the clang of arms rings out no more, with 

stirring trumpet's fray, 
That the sturdy knight so bold, and the prince 

so stern and proud 
Sleep well, the long and silent sleep, each 

wrapped in his white shroud. 



112 William Haines Lytle 



LINES TO MISS E 



The pulse of the year beat low, throbbed low, 
The winds went drearily sighing; 

For wrapped in their shrouds of snow, white 
snow, 
The last of fall flowers were lying. 

I heard the north storm come down, come down, 

From its farthest icy dwelling, 
Through leafless forests all brown, all brown, 

The doom of the old year knelling. 

But when the light of thy smile, sweet smile, 
Was shed on the lone chance-comer, 

He dreamed a fair dream awhile, awhile, 
Of beauty and love and summer. 



The Haunted River 113 



THE HAUNTED RIVER. 

Through a desolate dim region, 

Rolls a haunted river, 

Shapes and shades whose name is legion, 

Vex its tide forever. 

Round it loom steep promontories 

Fringed with morning's ruddy glories, 

In the olden day, 

Now, wan and gray ; 
And still this sad, mysterious river 
Goes sweeping, moaning on forever. 

Once amid enchanted islands, 
Where the May reposes, 
Starred with flower-crowned highlands, 
Drunk with breath of roses, 
Flashed its current in the sunlight, 
Sung its waters in the moonlight, 



114 William Haines Lytle 

Sung to Dian, 

And Orion; 
Now, this sad, mysterious river, 
Sweeps and moans along, forever. 



Faded Flowers 115 



FADED FLOWERS. 

Woven of fire 
And light, these flowers be emblems of the soul, 
Whose wing plies ceaselessly to win its goal, 

Till time expire. 

Beauty at dawn 
Was theirs, drunk with rich odors, thieves of 

hues 
Stolen from Iris, reeling with draughts of 
dews; 

At eve, how wan. 

Frail flowers ! poor heart ! 
Dew, beauty, fragrance linger till the noon, 
At eve, conspire to flee your presence soon, 

At night, depart. 



116 William Haines Lytle 

So reads the sign — 
May thy day linger long whose morn has spoken 
Hope to the heart, and peace as yet unbroken, — 

Longer than mine. 



Two Years Ago 117 



TWO YEARS AGO. 

The winds were still, the waters shone 
Beneath the May moon; we alone 
Upon the rose-twined portico 
In silence stood, two years ago. 

Her blue-veined hand was clasped in mine, 
My pulse leapt as if lashed with wine. 
Love, on expression could not wreak 
Its passions, though I burned to speak. 

Forth, lava-like, at last the gush 

Of passionate speech broke on the hush, 

And wildly poured upon her ear 

The words she feared, yet loved, to hear. 

In maiden beauty how she stood, 
Fair type of saintly womanhood; 



118 William Haines Lytle 

Shine out, sweet stars, on charms divine 
And radiantly pure as thine. 

The prize was won, the prize is lost;- — 
It may be weak, but, tempest tossed, 
I watch the dim receding shore 
From whence I drift forever more. 

Tell her, oh! night, if toward the North 
Her gentle eyes now wander forth 
To find my love's bright symbol there, 
Unquenchable amid despair. 

The winds are still, the water gleams 
Beneath the May moon; but the dreams 
I dreamed are gone, and now I know 
How blessed I was two years ago. 



A Valentine 119 



A VALENTINE. 

A loiterer by the ocean's azure swell, 
Enraptured seized a gem born of the spray, 
Scarce half admired, a still more beauteous shell 

Hath prompted him to fling the first away. 
So oft before, the tides of time had cast 

Such charms across my path, I could have 
sworn 
Their witching radiance beauty unsurpassed ; — 

Sprung from the bright sea-caves, where lurks 
the morn. 
Yet scarce had they my happiness undone, 
Ere some new fancy my allegiance won. 
Till waved thy scepter and my heart remained 
A trembling prisoner by beauty's links en- 
chained. 



120 William Haines Lytle 



LOVE AND TIME. 

There beat a young heart which had never 
known love, 
'Twas as fresh as the bloom of the red sum- 
mer rose, 
Till the merry god smiled from the regions 
above, 
And launched a bright arrow, that broke its 
repose. 

He launched a bright arrow, that broke its 
repose, 
When the fairy-like maiden was smiling in 
sleep ; 
The wound was a-bleeding, when just as love 
rose, 
Old Time chanced along on his pinions to 
sweep : 



Love and Time 121 

Old Time chanced along on his pinions to 
sweep, 
And on the new wound that the arrow had 
made, 
As he passed without stopping (his crop was 
to reap), 
All softly and gently his finger he laid — 

All softly and gently his finger he laid, 

Then noiselessly glided away from the spot, 
And careless, and gladsome, as e'er was the 
maid, 
Love's dream, and the wound, and the ar- 
row, forgot. 



122 William Haines Lytle 



LINES. 

SUGGESTED ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL T. L. 

HAMER. 

The brave who sleep in glory's shroud, 

How proud a fate is theirs! 
A stricken nation mourning stands 

In grief beside their biers. 
Strewn o'er our mountains and our plains, 

Their bones in clusters lie, 
And stars smile on their humble graves 

From out the quiet sky. 

Some fell upon the highland's crest, 

And some sleep in the vale, 
Where violets in summer time 

Are nodding in the gale. 



Lines 123 

The bones of some are whitening 

In stormy ocean's deep, 
On hill and plain and ocean bed 

So tranquilly they sleep. 

From city and from countryside 

In pride of youth they came, 
The noble and the beautiful, 

To shield from harm or shame 
The rich old memories of the past, 

The glorious legacy 
From men who in the olden time 

Fought battles to be free. 

Around the effulgent flag they pressed, 

That, borne in many wars, 
Dishonor never visited 

To lurk amid its stars. 
To guard it with the old renown, 

Or dearly life to sell, 
They closed around its lustrous sheen, 

And, conquering, they fell. 



124 William Haines Lytle 

In time's dim cycles yet to come, 

The mother to her child 
Will tell of the fierce battle won 

And the red carnage wild. 
And proud tradition shall hand down 

The glory of the brave, 
Long as above free hearts and hands 

Our star-lit flag shall wave. 

1849. 



A Serenade 125 



A SERENADE. 

The air is soft and balmy, 

And the moon shines clear and bright, 

So throw your lattice wide, Ladie, 

And bless my eyes to-night. 

No smoothly polished lay I sing 

Like courtly chevalier, 

Yet let the soldier's tale of love 

Fall sweetly on your ear. 

I come from far countree, 

From the land of tropic sun, 

Where fame, and wreaths of laurel, 

And glorious names are won; 

Where the dews of night fall harmlessly 

On the saber's polished side 

As the dews of Time but strengthen 

My soul's love for its bride. 



126 William Haines Lytle 



SONG OF THE LIGHTNING. 

For a thousand years of time and more, 

From the depths of my misty lair, 

I issued forth to the frozen north, 

But as lord of the upper air, 

The sway o'er life and death was mine, 

Where'er my footsteps trod, 

And in all Creation's broad expanse, 

I bowed to none but God. 

Where I slumbered, who might know? 
Or was cradled, who could tell? 
Fierce in my wrath, my blackened path 
Was scorched with flames of Hell. 
Yet I dwelt in each dew-wet moss-rose bud, 
In each trembling blade of grass, 
And in sportive glee I skimmed the sea 
And danced o'er the dark morass. 



Song of the Lightning 127 

I crouched in the granite quarry midst, 

I pierced the dull old earth, 

I fired the train that long had lain, 

And shouted with horrid mirth, 

When fierce volcano flung its glare 

Far o'er the ocean's brine, 

And poured the scalding lava forth 

As flagon pours the wine. 

Earth's quickener, I slumbered oft, 

For centuries concealed, 

Like a great thought in stillness wrought 

To blaze when once revealed. 

Blasting or blessing, alike I strode 

An angel or a fiend, 

And on flaming wing rejoicing, 

Through the deep vault careened. 

But I shouted aloud from an inky shroud 
When with death and woe I came, 
And pealed a blast as I hurried past, 
That shook earth's rock-ribbed frame; 



128 William Haines Lytle 

And suppliant forests bowed their crests 
As my black cohorts swept by, 
And the pealing tongue of the thunder flung 
Aloft my battle-cry. 

A good ship sailing on the sea, 
A pilgrim on the shore, 
A temple on a lonely hill 
Where worship bowed of yore; 
A blinding flash, a thunder peal, 
That fills the welkin wide, — 
A hulk, a corse, a ruin, tell 
The sum of human pride. 

Ye know how the treacherous wit of men 

Has lured me with my love, 

How the wing that flamed so free is tamed, 

To the flight of the carrier dove : 

But beware the lightning's tongue of fire, 

Ye cunning sons of men, 

When the woe begetter shall rend his fetter, 

And roam the skies again ! 



Omens 129 



OMENS. 

"Here I am, Lord, for thou didst call me." 

— 1 Sam. iii, 8. 

Last night in the mid-watch 
When all was still and drear. 
My name, I heard it called, — 
Oh, Christ, how dread to hear! 
Was it a dream? No sleep 
Had kissed my lids that night; 
Helpless I lay and powerless, 
All trembling with affright. 

I listened, yet no sound 
Smote on my straining ear, 
Save the wild wind whirling 
The leaflets torn and sere. 
And in the sudden pause, 
As sped its coursers fleet, 



130 William Haines Lytle 

Solemnly in the gloom around 
I heard the night's pulse beat. 

Doubt not between our world 
And those where spirits dwell, 
Shadowy links there be 
Whereof tongue cannot tell. 
Heed not the haughty soul 
Whose wisdom never bends, 
At the still voice of Omens, 
That God in mercy lends. 

In the broad light of day, 

When gloom broods o'er the deep, 

His arm is still to shield us, 

His love can never sleep. 

His mercy walks abroad at noon, 

And on the midnight air ; 

So thought I, and my troubled soul 

Found rest again in prayer. 



Lines on My Thirty-Sixth Birthday 131 



LINES ON MY THIRTY-SIXTH 
BIRTHDAY 

Swift through the hurricane of life 

My shattered bark drives on, 
The pilot's hand has left the helm, 

Rudder and mast are gone. 
I hear the roar of angry seas, 

And see the breakers rise, 
Revealed amid the sullen gloom 

By lightning-lighted skies. 

*Tis done! To hope I bid farewell, 

Love and her lights may flee, 
And youth's entrancing glamour fades 

From hope to memory. 
Far o'er the Atlantic's waves to-night 

My true love wends her way, 
And many a tear is mingled with 

The ocean's briny spray. 



132 William Haines Lytle 

Gird on my trusty blade once more, 

And saddle my sinewy steed; 
Dash down the gloomy page to earth, 

Whose lore I would not read. 
Weave fast your woof, weird sisters three ! 

Again among the brave, 
For freedom and for victory, 

Or for a soldier's grave! 

1862. 



Lines to My Sisters 133 



LINES TO MY SISTERS. 

Dear sisters, mid the toil and strife 
That vex young manhood's troubled life, 
My heart to you will fondly stray, 
Though absent now and far away. 
I miss your words of hope and cheer, 
That nerved my soul when all was drear, 
The sunny smiles and soothing ways 
So prized from earliest boyhood's days. 
In vain for me the applause of men, 
The laurel won by sword or pen, 
But for the hope, so dear and sweet, 
To lay my trophies at your feet. 
And though the world should prove unkind, 
A solace in your smiles I'll find. 
The links that link us three together 
Defy this life's most stormy weather, 
And in bright worlds we know not of 
Will still enclasp our sacred love. 



134 William Haines Lytle 

Bloom, flowers ! where'er my sisters move ; 
Shine on them, stars ! with beams of love ; 
Your vigils, holy angels, keep 
That no dark dream affright their sleep ; 
And sunny garlands, Fortune, twine 
To deck their brows, sweet sisters mine. 



'Tis Only Once We Love 135 



'TIS ONLY ONCE WE LOVE. 

The heart that throbbed at Glory's voice 

And followed in her train, 
Although in sloth it slumbers long, 

May wake to life again. 
But ah! when once true love has bloomed, 

As many a heart can prove, 
The fragrance wasted ne'er returns — 

'Tis only once we love, 

I tread the sunny paths of life, 

'Mid beauty's proud array, 
But the spell that lent a charm to all 

Has mist-like passed away. 
No more the thrill from mingled pulse 

The eloquent low sigh, 
Nor the unbidden tear of joy 

That trembled in the eye. 



136 William Haines Lytle 

Yet ofttimes in my early dreams, 

From some enchanted isle, 
Comes one with her soft, winning voice 

And the old gladsome smile, 
And hand in hand we wander on 

Through violet-bordered glades, 
Till with the night's starred legions bright 

The joyous vision fades* 

Ah ! sadly pass the hours away 

When that sweet light departs, 
Which fair as dawn on Eden rose 

With rapture on our hearts. 
And many a blossom fair is culled 

As through the world we rove; 
But the fairest is the rarest flower. 

'Tis only once we love. 



The Siege of Chapultepec 137 



THE SIEGE OF CHAPULTEPEC. 

Wide o'er the valley the pennons are fluttering, 
War's sullen story the deep guns are muttering, 
Forward! blue- jackets, in good steady order, 
Strike for the fame of your good northern 

border ; 
Forever shall history tell of the bloody check 
Waiting the foe at the siege of Chapultepec. 

Let the proud deeds of your fathers inspire ye 

still, 
Think ye of Monmouth, and Princeton, and 

Bunker Hill, 
Come from your hallowed graves, famous in 

story, 
Shades of our heroes, and lead us to glory. 
Side by side, son and father with hoary head 
Struggle for triumph, or death on a gory bed. 



138 William Haines Lytle 

Hark ! to the charge ! the war-hail is pattering, 
The foe through our ranks red rain is scat- 
tering ; 
Huzza! forward! no halting or flagging till 
Proudly the red stripes float o'er yon rocky 

hill. 
Northern and Southerner, let your feuds 

smolder ; 
Charge! for our banner's fame, shoulder to 
shoulder ! 



Flash the fort guns, and thunders their stun- 
ning swell 
Far o'er the valley to white Popocatapetl, 
Death revels high in the midst of the bloody 

sport, 
Bursting in flame from each black-throated 

castle-port, 
Press on the line with keen sabers dripping wet, 
Cheer, as ye smite with the death-dealing 
bayonet ! 



The Siege of Chapultepec 139 

Our bold Northern eagle, king of the firmament, 
Shares with no rival the skies of the continent. 
Yields the fierce foeman; down let his flag be 

hurled, 
Shout, as our own from the turret is wide un- 
furled ! 
Shout! for long shall Mexico mourn the wreck 
Of her proud state at the siege of Chapultepec. 

1848. 



140 William Haines Lytle 



THE SOLDIER'S DEATH. 1 

"Early in the morning we found him lying cold and 
stiff on the scene of his former exploits." 

The night had come and the stars were bright, 
And the moon shone o'er the battlefield, 
When the unjust cause of a tyrant's might 
Was crushed by the weight of freedom's shield. 

Years passed by and a people great 
Had risen in a mighty land, 
And peace and hope and might they date 
From a contest gained by a gallant band. 

Upon the waste so stained with blood, 

Beside a great and rushing stream, 

A worn and weary soldier stood, 

Like a phantom raised in a feverish dream. 

1 Written at the age of fourteen. 



The Soldier's Death 141 

As the winds of winter by him course, 
And curl the foam on the billow's crest, 
Naught can oppose their onward force, 
They carry a groan from the soldier's breast. 

The scenes of the past before him glow, 
While memory's rays upon them beam, 
And the waste — before — is crowded now 
And polished arms before him gleam. 

Through the vault of heaven the bugles call, 
The eager troops to the conflict pour, 
Like grass before the scythe they fall, 
Mowed down — as the cannons loudly roar. 

As the moon beams on their armor dance, 
Springing like beast from out his lair, 
Each grasping close his deadly lance, 
The shadowy horsemen fast appear. 

As in their crowded ranks they stream, 
Now loudly swells the battle cry, 



142 William Haines Lytle 

Floating in air their banners gleam, 
With clashing swords is the tumult high. 

See the old man stands with kindling eyes, 
And lifting high his hoary head. 
His upraised arm he scarcely stays, — 
'Tis but the battle of the dead. 

The night has passed — the morn has come, 
With rosy hue the east is flushed. 
And on that spot seemed nature dumb, 
So tranquil was the scene and hushed. 

When mortals by the wayside passed, 
The soldier's last deep breath had flown, 
With naught to cheer save the midnight blast. 
On the battlefield had he died — alone. 

1840. 



The Fanner 143 



THE FARMER. 

From golden morn till dewy eve, 

When the sky gleams bright and red, 
With many a strong and sturdy stroke, 

I labor for my bread. 
No sickly fits nor ills I dread, 

My chest is deep and broad, 
And though I work the live-long day, 

I rise and thank my God. 

No lily hue is on my brow, 

No rings on my hard hand, 
I wield the axe, I drive the plow; 

Or when war shrouds the land, 
I seize my father's well-tried blade, 

And that for Freedom's sod 
It is my glorious right to bleed, 

I rise and thank my God. 



144 William Haines Lytle 

And when my daily task is o'er, 

And the sun is sinking low, 
As faint with work and honest toil, 

To my humble roof I go, — 
I see the perfumed city beau 

With his ebony walking rod, 
And that I'm not a thing like him, 

I rise and thank my God. 

The widow's prayer upon mine ear 

Unheeded never fell, 
I ne'er beheld the orphan's tear, 

But my own heart's fount would swell. 
I never Heaven for gold would sell, 

Nor for wealth would stoop to fraud, 
A poor but yet an honest man, 

I rise and thank my God. 

And when the good sun floods with light 

This land of liberty, 
And spreads around my happy sight, 

As in prayer I bend the knee, 



The Farmer 145 

That I am strong and bold and free, 

In the land my fathers trod, 
With quivering lip and outstretched arms, 

I rise and thank my God. 



1843, 



146 William Haines Lytle 



HUNTING SONG. 

Arouse ! Hunters ! Arouse ! 

Brightly breaks the morn, 
Freshly blows the morning breeze, 

And cheerily winds the horn. 
The deer, his covert leaving, 

Lingers in the vale, 
And over the lofty mountain-top 

The crimson glories sail. 

Awake ! Hunters ! Awake ! 

Nature from her sleep 
In summer's arms comes forth 

To bid the glad pulse leap. 
The sorrowing night has vanished, 

Her dreary watching done, 
Her tear-drops hung on trembling leaves 

Are glittering in the sun. 



Hunting Song 147 

To horse ! Hunters ! To horse ! 

Bounds each noble steed 
Like a bold spirit wearying 

From bondage to be freed. 
Give rein ! give rein ! with ringing shout 

The soaring eagle scare, 
And follow with echoing cry the stag, 

Deep in his forest lair. 



1846. 



148 William Haines Lytle 



SONG OF THE RAGGED ATTORNEY. 

" Ridentem dicere verum quid vetat ? "—Horace. 

My coat has long since lost its gloss, 

My purse of gold is bare, 
I stride no horses fleet and fine, 

Nor dine on dainties rare. 
Yet ho ! my cheek is full and red, 

My eye is clear and bright, 
And I laugh at rags, and want and care, 

With a jolly strong heart and light. 

Ha! ha! Sir Spider, on the wall, 

How lank you look and poor, 
We've neither webbed a single fly 

For a good twelvemonth or more. 
Yet ho ! who cares ? we both live high — 

As high as we can get — 
And we season the good things that we say 

With the salt of our Attic wit. 



Song of the Ragged Attorney 149 

The spider has fled into his web, 

The mouse, he scampers away, 
And the dusty office seems chill and drear, 

With the shadows long and grey. 
What ho, old moth! art working still? 

The prince of scholars you be 
Toiling away in your wormy cell 

Like a monk right steadily. 

And now to fancy's mystic eye, 

The mournful twilight teems 
With solemn shapes and dusky forms 

From the dark land of dreams. 
What ho ! start not, I know them well, 

Brave doctors of the law — 
Each one in place — quick for the dance 

My quivering bow I draw. 

Ha ! ha ! these figures grave and dusk, 

See how they wheel and spin, 
Footing it up and shuffling down 

To the merry violin. 



150 William Haines Lytle 

Oh! ho! 'tis a farcical sight to see — 

Lord Eldon, you alone, 
Now forward Coke, and Matthew Hale, 

With jolly old Blackstone. 

The soldier loves the flash of steel, 

The sailor loves the sea, 
The forester carols a merry tune 

In praise of the greenwood tree; 
Yet ho ! for law, with scales so bright, 

And the sword to shield from harm, 
And her ragged sons who laugh at care, 

With jolly light hearts and strong. 

1845. 



The Farewell 151 



THE FAREWELL. 

My bark is clearing a path of light 

Over the waters fair, 
In whose crystal depths the Queen of Night 

Is bathing her golding hair. 
Silence and beauty are throned above, 

In the vaults of the summer sky, 
And the river murmurs a tale of love 

To the stars as it ripples by. 

Tell, fair Moon, if thy golden eye 

My lady-love can discover, 
Does she gaze on thine orb in sympathy 

And muse on her distant lover? 
Or if through her casement thou shinest now, 

On her pride in sleep serene, 
Strew lightly, Moon, on her peerless brow 

The snow of thy silver sheen. 



152 William Haines Lytle 

Night wind, droop thy waving wings, 

I pray thee cease to rove, 
Till I burden thy heedless wanderings 

With the precious freight of love. 
Then plume thy scented wing once more, 

Thy way by the moonlight steer, 
And the burning tide of my bosom pour 

By stealth in my lady's ear. 

Breathe to her, wind, farewell, for one 

Over whose days she threw 
A ray of gladness such as shone 

When yet the world was new. 
Say that afar his heart will tell 

Of those bright hours cherished long, 
As the crimson lip of the lone sea-shell 

Murmurs its ocean song. 

1846. 



GENERAL LYTLE'S LAST SPEECH, 

Delivered in Camp at Bridgeport, Alabama, 

August 9, 1863, 

ON RECEIVING A JEWELED MALTESE CROSS 

From the Officers of 

THE TENTH OHIO REGIMENT. 



The presentation speech, by Colonel Wm. 
W. Ward, of Ohio, concluded in these words : 

" We, now, your old comrades in arms, wit- 
nesses of your conspicuous gallantry in the 
field; witnesses, also, of your skill in council, 
and thoroughly conversant with your accurate 
knowledge of military duty — present to 6 our 
Colonel ' the cross I have placed, General, 

upon your breast, knowing as we all do — and 

153 



154 William Haines Lytle 

also anxious to tell your dear brothers in arms 
— gentlemen of whose gallantry I would have 
been assured, even if you had not told me of 
it — that our Colonel's cross will be like the 
white plume of the hero of Ivry — seek it where 
the fight is thickest." 



GENERAL LYTLE'S SPEECH. 

Colonel, and Gentlemen of the Tenth Ohio 
Infantry — My old Friends and Comrades: — I 
can not tell you how deeply I am touched by 
this beautiful testimonial. I am very glad to 
learn that, although you have not for a long 
time been under my command, you have not 
forgotten me; and I feel it also an especial 
honor that you have taken the trouble to visit 
me in our camp in the mountains to make me 
this present in the midst of a campaign, and, 
I fear, at great personal inconvenience. In all 
sincerity I can say to you that never did the 



General Lytle's Last Speech 155 

heart of a soldier of the Old Guard beat higher 
— no, not even when at the hands of the " Little 
Corporal " himself he received the Cross of the 
Legion — than does mine to-day. Come what 
may to me to-morrow or in days beyond ; come 
what may, as under the leadership of our gal- 
lant chief, the invincible Rosecrans, this Army 
of the Cumberland follows his happy star 
through the eventful drama of the war, at least 
for me this token, from the cherished com- 
rades with whom I entered the service, is 
secure. 

So long as, in God's providence, my life is 
spared, I shall look on it, gentlemen, and be re- 
minded of many a stirring incident, both in your 
experience and mine. It will recall the pale and 
troubled faces with which men stood in the black 
shadows that strove before civil war, and the 
horror that thrilled our breasts when the rebel- 
lion first proclaimed itself by overt acts ; the 
revered and holy flag of the nation was fired on 
by parricidal hands at Charleston. It will 



156 William Haines Lytle 

bring back to me the fiery and tumultuous gath- 
erings of armed men that rallied to defend the 
flag. I will remember, as I gaze on it, a thou- 
sand incidents connected with our camps at 
Harrison and Dennison. It will remind me of 
the long and weary marches when our solitary 
column threaded the mountain defiles of West 
Virginia, of the memorable 8th of October at 
Carnifex Ferry, when your ranks, plowed by 
shot and shell, stood fast and firm until the 
enemy fell back across the Gauley under cover 
of the night, the movement masked by darkness 
and the roar of the mountain stream. It will 
remind me of the brave Milroy ; of Fitzgibbon, 
the color-bearer; of Kavanaugh and Kennedy, 
of many a hero soldier whose name we will keep 
green in memory ; of that red autumnal day, at 
Chaplin Hills, when Jackson, Terrill, Jones and 
Campbell fell, their names crowned with the 
deathless laurel, when, in your own brigade, the 
chivalry of Ohio and Kentucky, and Indiana 
and Michigan, added a new and glorious leaf 



General Lytle's Last Speech 157 

to the somber annals of the Dark and Bloody 
Ground. 

I will be reminded too, as I gaze upon its em- 
erald and its shamrock, the significant emblems 
with which your taste and the craft of the 
artisan have enriched it, of that gallant and 
beautiful island of the sea, the devotion of 
whose children to my country and their coun- 
try, has been so gloriously manifested in this 
hour of her bitterest travail. 

String with fresh cords the Irish harp, worn 
with recounting the triumphs of your race, to 
breathe in new and yet loftier strains of min- 
strelsy their deeds in arms and deeds of noble 
daring during this rebellion. Let the pale cheek 
of Erin, as she watches across the deep, crim- 
son with exultation at the names of Corcoran 
and Meagher, and the record of your own gal- 
lant regiment, the armed witness before this, 
your generation, to the undying fame of Rich- 
ard Montgomery. 

I will not deny, gentlemen, that when on re- 



158 William Haines Lytle 

porting to this department, I found you were to 
be no longer in my command, I felt that sense of 
loneliness and isolation natural to one whose old 
army associations were broken up. My present 
command will pardon me for saying this, I 
know, for, in my judgment, no man who forgets 
his old friends deserves to make new ones. But 
long since I have felt perfectly at home, and I 
can not let this the first occasion that has pre- 
sented itself pass by without expressing to the 
officers and men of the First Brigade my heart- 
felt thanks for the warm and generous welcome 
they have awarded to a stranger. Gentlemen 
of the Tenth Ohio, you see around you your 
brethren in arms, the men of Sheridan's divi- 
sion; men from the North-west, from the clans 
of the people who pitch their tents on the 
prairies of Illinois and Michigan and Wiscon- 
sin, and by the shores of the great lakes, — 
veterans of Pea Ridge, Perryville, and Stone 
River. When the next fight comes on, may 
they and the Old Tenth stand shoulder to 



General Lytle's Last Speech 159 

shoulder, and see by whom, in glorious emula- 
tion, our battle-flags into the ranks of the 
enemy can be flung the farthest and followed 
the closest. Nor will it diminish your interest 
in this brigade to tell you it was once com- 
manded by the pure and heroic Sill — Sill, whom 
you knew so well last year, during your cam- 
paign in Northern Alabama. Than his, the war 
has developed no nobler spirit. The Military 
Academy at West Point might point to his 
name alone, and stand fast in the affections of 
the people. Ohio in no braver or better blood 
has sealed her devotion to the Union. 

" Him shall no sunshine from the field of azure, 
No drum beat from the wall — 
No morning gun, from the black fort's embrasure, 
Awaken with its call." 

But his name will be embalmed in the praise 
of states, and this, his old brigade, at Chatta- 
nooga, or Atlanta, or in Eastern Tennessee, or 
wherever its proud banners flaunt the sky, will 
cherish his memory and avenge his fall. 



160 William Haines Lytle 

But, gentlemen, I know your time is limited, 
and that I must not detain you too long. Rest 
assured that I shall follow the military career of 
each and all of you with the deepest solicitude. 
The third year of the war is upon us. How 
fierce has been the struggle, our vast national 
debt and shattered ranks bear witness. 
Whether the end is near or not, I can not tell. 
The past months will be forever memorable for 
the splendid triumphs of our arms, and to the 
eyes of hope the sky is flushed with faint light 
and the morning seems near at hand. But come 
victory or come defeat, come triumph or come 
disaster, this I know, that against rebels in the 
field or traitors at home, despite the plots of 
weak-kneed and cowardly politicians of the 
North and the machinations of foreign despots 
and aristocrats, the scarred and bronzed vet- 
erans of the warlike West, the men on whose 
banners are inscribed Mill Springs and Donel- 
son, Pea Ridge and Vicksburg, Shiloh, Carnifex 
and Stone River, will make no terms, accept no 



General Ly tie's Last Speech 161 

truce, indorse no treaty, until the military 
power of the rebellion is crushed forever, and 
the supremacy of the National Government ac- 
knowledged from the Potomac to the Rio 
Grande. 

Am I told that Union restored by force of 
arms is not worth having? Am I told that if 
the states now in revolt are whipped in fair fight 
— beaten and humiliated — they will be un- 
worthy and degraded members of the Union? 
We must have peace first, says a certain school 
of politicians, and then, if we can, we will argue 
the South into a reconstruction. In other 
words, these gentlemen would have the Govern- 
ment and the loyal masses of the country drain 
to the dregs the bitter cup which they would 
dash from the hands of traitors and rebels. 
The territory you have occupied is to be aban- 
doned, the public property, the dock-yards, and 
fortresses you have recaptured after two years 
of war, are to be surrendered, the victorious 
armies of the Mississippi, the Cumberland, and 



162 William Haines Lytle 

the Potomac, followed by the jeers and scoffs 
of the enemy, are to sneak, with arms reversed 
and flags trailed in the dust, across the North- 
ern border; and your Government — the Gov- 
ernment of Washington, of Jefferson, and 
Jackson — is to cower, dishonored and dis- 
graced, a byword and hissing among the na- 
tions. If the rebel armies (I will not say the 
rebel States, for it is not against the States, 
nor their constitutional rights, we wage war), 
if the rebel armies, and the oligarchs who con- 
trol them, have their pride broken, and their 
prestige humbled, let them blame themselves. 
They have sown the wind, let them reap the 
whirlwind, till the bloody problem is finally 
worked out; eye to eye, foot to foot, sword to 
sword, bayonet to bayonet; if need be, for ten 
years longer, with iron hearts, and iron fleets, 
and iron hail, this generation of loyal men 
will, by God's grace, endure its heavy cross, and 
until the broad daylight of peace and order and 
victory shall come, will stand to arms. 



General Lytle's Last Speech 163 

And then for you, soldiers — soldiers, but free 
men and armed citizens of the Republic — it will 
be for you to remember the Roman saying, Vel 
pace, vel bello, clarum peri licet, or as old 
Milton has paraphrased it, " Peace has her vic- 
tories, no less renowned than war." It will be 
for you to look to it that those arbitrary war 
measures, justified by the awful presence of a 
rebellion, whose like the world never saw before ; 
justified by the maxim that " the safety of the 
Republic is the supreme law, 55 die, with the 
necessities which gave them birth. It will be 
for you to see that the powers of the Govern- 
ment are restricted to their lawful and appro- 
priate channels; that each State has its full 
and perfect rights under the constitution, 
awarded to it ; and, finally, through the instru- 
mentality of the ballot box, it will be for you 
to put the seal of eternal political damnation 
on those subtle and designing demagogues, 
whose disaffection and disloyalty to the country 
have already prolonged the war, and to-day, 



164* William Haines Lytle 

more than all other agencies, feed the unholy 
fires of treason, riot and insurrection. Mark 
the prediction, that, when the war is over, it 
will be to the men of this humane army, more 
than to any others, that the people of the 
Southern States will look for a wise, generous, 
patriotic conservatism. 

They will trust you because of your un- 
flinching and unwavering loyalty to your great 
cause ; they will respect you as one brave man, 
even though overcome, respects another with 
whom he has measured swords. The govern- 
ment of Jefferson Davis may flatter the political 
apostates of the North for military purposes, 
but I much mistake the character of Southern 
men, if, while they hug the treason, they do not 
scorn the traitor. 

It will be for you, above all others, when this 
rebellion has spent its strength, to recall to the 
minds of the people, the admonition: 

"It is well to have a giant's strength, 

But, oh, 'tis tyranny to use it like a giant;" 



General Lytle's Last Speech 165 

to heal up the sores and scars, and cover up the 
bloody foot-prints that war will leave; to bury 
in oblivion all animosities against your former 
foe; and chivalrous as you are brave, standing 
on forever stricken fields, memorable in history, 
side by side with the Virginian, the Mississip- 
pian, or Alabamian, to carve on bronze or 
marble the glowing epitaph that tells us of 
Southern as well as Northern valor. 

That the day of ultimate triumph for the 
Union arms, sooner or later, will come, I do not 
doubt, for I have faith in the courage, the wis- 
dom, and the justice of the people. It may not 
be for all of us here to-day to listen to the 
chants that greet the victor, nor to hear the 
brazen bells ring out the new nuptials of the 
States. But those who do survive can tell, at 
least, to the people, how their old comrades, 
whether in the skirmish or the charge, before 
the rifle-pit or the redan, died with their harness 
on, in the great war for Union and Liberty. 



166 William Haines Lytle 



CO. K. 

[Poem found in a pocket-book taken from General 
Ly tie's pocket when he lay dead on the battlefield of 
Chickamauga. The authorship is not known.] 

There's a cap in the closet, 

Old, tattered, and blue, 
Of very slight value, 

It may be, to you; 
But a crown, jewel-studded, 

Could not buy it to-day, 
With its letters of honor, 

Brave " Co. K." 

The head that it sheltered 

Needs shelter no more ! 
Dead heroes make holy 

The trifles they wore; 



Co. K 167 

So, like chaplet of honor, 

Of laurel and bay, 
Seems the cap of the soldier, 

Marked " Co. K." 

Bright eyes have looked calmly 

Its visor beneath 
O'er the work of the Reaper, 

Grim Harvester, Death! 
Let the muster-roll, meager, 

So mournfully say, 
How foremost in danger 

Went " Co. K." 

Whose footsteps unbroken 

Came up to the town, 
Where rampart and bastion 

Looked threateningly down! 
Who, closing up breaches, 

Still kept on their way, 
Till guns, downward pointed, 

Faced " Co. K." 



168 William Haines Lytle 

Who faltered, or shivered? 

Who shunned battle-stroke? 
Whose fire was uncertain? 

Whose battle line broke? 
Go, ask it of History, 

Years from to-day, 
And the record shall tell you, 

Not " Co. K." 

Though my darling is sleeping 

To-day with the dead, 
And daisies and clover 

Bloom over his head, 
I smile through my tears 

As I lay it away — 
That battle-worn cap, 

Lettered " Co. K." 



Last Marching Order 169 



LAST MARCHING ORDER. 

Below is printed, from the original, one of the last 
orders received by Brigadier-General Lytle: 

Head Quarters, 3d Div., 20th A. C. 

Trenton, Georgia, Sept. 6, 1863. 
Orders, — 

This Division will resume the march this morning in 
the following order: 

1. 2d Brigade, Col. B. Laiboldt. 

2. 3d " " L. P. Bradley. 

3. 1st " Genl. W. H. Lytle. 
4 Ammunition Train. 

5. Ambulance " 

6. Brigade trains in the order of their Brigades. 

7. Division Supply Train. 

Genl. Lytle will detail one regiment of his command 
to act as rear guard. 

Col. Bradley will move his Brigade at 12 o'c, to be 
followed immediately by the Brigade of Genl. Lytle. 

By command of Ma j. -Genl. Sheridan. 

Geo. Lee, Captain and A. A. G. 
To Brig.-Genl. Lytle, Command'g 1st Brigade. 



170 William Haines Lytle 



LYTLE'S LAST ORDER TO HIS BRIGADE. 

This memorial collection may close appropriately with 
the last written words of General Lytle, hastily penciled 
on the back of the foregoing order, and a facsimile of 
which occupies these final pages. The humane and beau- 
tiful sentences here reproduced, constitute the last order 
of a loved and honored commander to his heroic fol- 
lowers. 



General Lytle's Last Written Order 171 



'«e»~p 






172 William Haines Lytle 




fit* t£~ /ly/Utt*^ Lrrf 



MR 4 1912 



